Creatures of the Forest
by lackofname
Summary: Formerly titled 'The Forest's Creatures'. Roxas never believed the stories, that there were creatures in the forest...but he never left the village, regardless. Until Sora went missing. AkuRoku, Marxene, and Zemyx with one-sided VexZex. AU.
1. Humilitas

Disclaimer: I don't own Kingdom Hearts…that makes me sad. If I did, I can guarantee you it would be a very different and likely more suggestive game.

To those of you who were fans of Ocarina of Konoha, and waiting on ANBU's Mask…I'm sorry, but I've completely lost inspiration, as far as the Naruto fandom is concerned! I beg your forgiveness.

Also, this won't be anything like OoK…just a word of warning. Also, it's **yaoi **– yes, I'm writing it. Those with problems with that, please don't flame me, you've been warned. And flames really only make the reviewer look unintelligent, anyway, rather than the author.

Warnings aside, please enjoy!

* * *

It was an unspoken rule; never, ever venture into the woods. Not for any reason.

This also meant that it was impossible for them to go anywhere at all. In fact, the village could hardly warrant being called such; it was more of a vast clearing among the thickest patch of forest to be found, settled by their great-grandfathers. However, it remained a mystery as to how they had gotten there when the surrounding forest was simply so foreboding.

The mere _look_ of the woods was what caused it to appear so unspeakably frightening to those residing within the village. While it had never once been said that leaving was against the rules, or that it was forbidden territory not meant to be trespassed upon, or that leaving was impossible, it was implicit in all the tales they had ever been told as mere children. Even the most natural of rebels did not dare shatter the unspoken agreement made for their own safety.

They had been told that, for the most part, the wood was dead. It was nearly devoid of life forms and of any creatures. Those unlucky enough to get past the initial part of the forest – the thick ring of danger – would surely die before managing to trudge through the darkest, sparsest area of the dead wood. There was nothing to hunt, nothing to grow. There was no water, and there were no branches adequate for firewood. The trees in the heart of the forest grew straight up, smooth trunks reaching to impossible heights and bursting into greenery only near the heavens, blocking out the sun completely. Thus, with no warmth or light reaching the ground below, no grass sprouted and not a living thing flourished.

But it was unlikely that one would even manage to reach such depths; the forest was said to be well-guarded by all manner of beasts lurking close to the liveliest parts of the forest, nearby their own very village. No creature ever left the safety of the trees, but they waited there, living off cattle that had gone stray and woodland creatures – birds, squirrels, whatever else they could find. At least, this is what the villagers assumed; they could not be definite, because no one was really sure what they were. But most were confident that such beasts were really there. Waiting…

There was more to the stories. Somewhere, out in the forest, was a great lake; or so it was rumoured. Many who had passed the tale around mused that it had magical properties of some sort, that those who drank the water would change their shape and become one of the creatures that roamed there. Others said far better things for the lake – that it granted eternal youth and other such fantastical things, as if the mystical water was really capable of such miracles.

Sora took every word of the tales to heart. Roxas wasn't so easily convinced.

Most would have thought that both boys would be the most wary of all the villagers, having lost their father to the wood when they were younger. It left them orphaned, their mother long-since dead from the time of their birth. Yet, while Sora accepted the stories as truth, Roxas was never so certain.

What kind of creatures supposedly lived there? What could be so horrific? What proof was there of these things? And _why_ did he have to let it _imprison_ him in this maddeningly tiny scrap of meadow they tried to pass off as a _village?_

There were more questions; if there really were creatures barring their path out of the village, how had anyone ever founded the village in the first place? Why didn't these creatures venture out, even for a moment, to capture those who were intruding upon their territory?

Roxas found it all incredibly hard to believe. But he had never left, as the years wore on – not when he turned fourteen, or fifteen. Sixteen came, and he remained in the village, obediently living the way he should.

Until the day Sora went missing.

* * *

"Roxas! Hey, Roxas!"

He felt a bit of irritation stir within his chest at the call. He was busy; couldn't whoever was calling him see that? Mopping his brow carelessly on his loose white sleeve, stunningly bright sky-hued eyes narrowed slightly as he glanced over his shoulder, grudgingly softening upon seeing who it was. Kairi, the village leader's daughter, was a sweet enough girl, and _quite_ fond of his younger twin. She had a charisma about her that a person couldn't help but like.

"Roxas, I'm sorry to interrupt you," the garnet-haired girl appeared contrite, looking up to survey his work tending the chicken coop. Every family in the village usually focused on one aspect of the farm, and his father had taken care of the coops when he was still alive. When he passed away, Roxas and Sora had taken over the job.

The boy shrugged, running a hand through sun-streaked spikes, tugging at them a bit to get rid of their wilt.

"I was almost finished," he replied dismissively. "Is something the matter?"

Kairi bit her lip.

"I've been looking for Sora since early this morning, and it's well after noon, now… Have you seen him?"

"Probably still lazing in bed," Roxas snorted slightly. "Leaving me with all the day's work, the lazy little-…"

Inwardly, he found the news more intriguing than that. Sora had definitely still been in bed at dawn, when Roxas awoke, but it _was_ unusual for him to just stay there for so long a time. And in their little village, for someone to go missing was incredibly strange. Everyone knew each other… everyone saw one another.

'_Maybe he's found somewhere new to hide, that's all. It wouldn't be unlike him to ditch work… Or maybe Riku talked him into it.'_

Kairi was still speaking, causing Roxas to feel slightly guilty for having not been listening. "…wasn't in any of his usual spots, and Riku hasn't seen him yet today, either…"

"He hasn't?" Roxas frowned. He would have thought that if one of his brother's dearest friends couldn't find him, the other would at least know. But if neither Kairi nor Riku had any idea… "Listen, I've finished my day's work. I'll help you seek him out."

The girl smiled gratefully. "Thank you, Roxas. I greatly appreciate it… let me know if you find him, will you?"

The boy nodded, watching Kairi glide away, likely to continue asking around for his younger brother. He sighed, drawing backwards and shielding his eyes from the harsh sunlight. If Roxas was only looking for his brother, he wasn't going to bother changing from his grungy work clothes; he thus remained garbed in a loose white shirt, the buttons only done halfway up his chest and clinging to him slightly (evidence of the day's toil in the sweltering heat). His work boots were laced tightly up his shins, keeping them secure on his feet, and his tan-coloured pants were made of a sort of scratchy material – not comfortable, but practical.

In an almost fond matter, the boy cursed Sora as he began trudging off to locate the younger twin.

By nightfall, his cursing was not so affectionate. In fact, he was beginning to panic.

The entire village was on high alert, and Kairi was nearing hysterics. Riku, normally so calm and composed, was starting to snap at anyone who said the wrong thing to him and was tersely picking fights; which were only barely circumvented by the red-haired girl's distress.

Everyone's behaviour was understandable. Sora was the village's sweetheart – innocent, friendly, trusting and caring, energetic and hard-working (on the days he hadn't fallen into one of his stupors of idleness). He was an easy person to get along with. What could have been resentment or jealousy directed at his younger brother was affection, simply because Sora was too likeable a person; Roxas would always be one of the first to admit it. He was the type of person Roxas only wished he could dislike, but couldn't, in actuality.

The two of them were the village 'sun-boys' – one in disposition, one in appearance. Having his other half disappear so suddenly and mysteriously felt like being cleaved in two.

Even worse, though, were the hopeful, yet nevertheless false reassurances from the other members of the village. Some had obviously given up faith before they had even really tried, to Roxas's disgust. How shallow people could be – they assumed the worst, moved on, and went about consoling the one left behind.

Roxas wouldn't stand for it. He kept up his search, regardless. He didn't care that he needed to wake early the next morning to tend to the chicken coop, and he didn't care how the temperature dropped ominously the later into the night he ventured, keeping himself awake through the stretching hours of blackness.

He had combed through the village alone within those quiet hours, with still no sign of Sora. It was perplexing, and distressing…

And really only left one possibility, in his mind.

While Sora wasn't the type to rebel, he _could_ be careless, and only for that reason did Roxas wonder if he'd stumbled into the forest. He knew that his twin wouldn't have ventured far, but there was a possibility he'd gotten lost. Sora knew what to do in that case; sit and wait for either Roxas or Riku to find him, in which case he'd receive an exasperated chastising and the moment of panic would pass, forgotten.

The question was… would Sora do the same thing within the trees? Surely he would know not to move too much, in case he went too far in; he was naïve, but by no means was he stupid. His mind would be able to piece together that the village was small, that once it was concluded he wasn't anywhere to be found that the woods would be left as the only remaining option. It made sense.

Perhaps too much sense, but it was all Roxas could hope for. Surely his brother wouldn't have panicked and run far in. Surely he _was_ somewhere in the forest… he couldn't have simply vanished. Things like that just weren't possible.

Deliberating for a moment on whether or not to fetch his jacket, Roxas decided against stopping by his cabin. There was little time to waste, and the longer he took, the longer Sora would have to wait. If he was forced to sit still for too long, there was a chance he would get impatient and try to find his own way out…

'_How am I going to find __**my**__ way out, for that matter…?'_

Roxas would figure it out later. Besides, his sense of direction was far superior to that of his brother's, whose abysmal navigational skills meant that he could scarcely differentiate between east and west, even as the sun rose and set.

Swallowing with a newfound nervousness, Roxas cast a quick glance back over his shoulder and tried to summon up his courage. Sure, they were just stories, but he could understand parts of the tales… like how people could get lost…

It had happened to his father, after all.

Without another thought spared, Roxas slipped past the unmarked barrier separating the community from the unknown wilderness, passing the first tree and gaining speed both speed and courage. It was as though that first step had been his biggest obstacle.

But with such courage came blind overconfidence; he didn't see the way the bark shifted, twisting into a face with narrowed eyes, watching him venture further in with an irate sort of intrigue…

Roxas gently pushed away a bush, picking it apart with his boot and stumbling slightly over the terrain. It was much rougher than what he was used to, due to the overgrowth of weedy flora and other such plant life. He couldn't fathom how it would lead into a barren wood as the one described in stories – it was so bursting with life.

Though, flat ground may have been far preferable.

With a scowl, Roxas kicked a cleared path over to the nearest tree, seeing what would serve his needs. Reaching up, he snapped away a long thick stick from the tree, perhaps the beginnings of a prospering branch. It would make a fine walking stick for him, to ground himself with proper footing.

However, the blonde soon jumped at the sound that followed. The crack had echoed strangely, giving him the impression of a furious cry, but it had to have been the workings of his imagination. No plant could make such a sound…

It was hard to brush off the feeling, though, as his skin began prickling uneasily, almost making him feel queasy. Roxas clutched the walking stick with a firm grip and started back on his way, feeling the ground ahead of him as he batted away particularly troublesome bushes that threatened to ensnare his feet.

"Ah - !"

Something had caught his leg, making him nearly gasp and jolt out of his skin.

'_You're being foolish. Your pants caught on a branch, that's all. It was just a snag, nothing to panic about.'_

The forest really did have a way of unnerving him; one didn't have to believe in the stories, it seemed, to be put off by the atmosphere. Roxas almost wished he'd waited until daylight broke. It was too hard to see at night, and every small thing seemed to give him a peculiar chill…

The grip around his leg tightened, and he stiffened immediately.

'_That doesn't feel like a snag.'_

Letting the makeshift staff fall from his hands, Roxas dropped to a crouch, tugging at the thick wooden vines curling up around his ankles as he nearly seized with fright. He'd never seen plants of any kind act in such a manner before. It wasn't normal.

"Human…"

The voice was low, hissed, and utterly foreign, prompting Roxas to look up. His sapphire eyes widened in shock, trying to make sense of what he was seeing.

The bark of the tree before him was twisting and writhing, creating the shape of the man who appeared to be coming out of the bough itself. The wood creaked and groaned from the exertion, pulling outwards to form the unmistakable impression of a human face, and then body, while the grass below snaked upwards. It uprooted itself, weaving together into a coat of thick, shining green, twining upon his wooden torso and over his shoulders before falling down like a cloak around his bare feet. Only when he was completely formed and separate from the tree did the bark meld into solid features, fading to flesh tones and hardening into a solid being; rose-tinted hair falling to the man's shoulders as cruel leaf-hued eyes stared down at Roxas contemptuously.

"Not fifteen minutes in the wood, and you're destroying my plants and snapping my trees," he hissed, voice almost dripping with venom and nearly making the blonde boy shudder.

"_My_ plants, _my_ domain. It's no place for filth such as yourself, human wretch! That you would even _dare_…"

'_It's not real. It can't be real. There are no such things as creatures in the forest.'_

But this man had appeared out of nowhere – out of a _tree!_ And he spat the word 'human' with too much hatred for him to be one, himself. The way he spoke was distinctly different from those in the village. His tone held a silkier quality, strange and far more earthly than Roxas's own kind…

But it couldn't be possible. They were only stories – they weren't even _believable _stories! This couldn't be happening…

Roxas's hand shot out, groping for his walking stick while his stronger hand wrestled with the sturdy vines, which had managed to creep their way up his skin, snaking into his boots and around his bare skin. If there had been any hope of just abandoning his boot and running, it was gone now.

"I ought to dispose of you," the man continued, by now speaking more to himself, as if Roxas wasn't even worth directing attention towards. Indeed, from his disdainful expression, that did appear to be his line of thinking.

"Human flesh, I hear, makes wonderful fertilizer when it begins to rot…"

The blonde boy couldn't help shuddering at that point, beginning to struggle feebly against his bindings.

"Let me go," he commanded, voice rising with what he hoped sounded like anger; in reality, it was steadily mounting panic. No matter what this man was, where he had come from… he was obviously dangerous. Perhaps even mad.

"Release me!"

"If you do not silence yourself, I will force you to be quiet."

The strange man snapped his fingers crisply, the sound similar to the snap of a twig, and from above a leafy vine swung downwards and curled around Roxas's mouth. It set him off; he began to yell, pulling at the vines keeping him still and the one muffling his voice. He was scrambling so fiercely that his fingers began to bleed, abrasive textures chafing and tearing at his skin.

"Shut up," the man sneered. "You're not doing yourself any favours, human. Now, to think-…"

"Don't hurt yourself, Marluxia."

The new voice was wicked, and Roxas faltered, noting subconsciously that it held the same strange quality as the first man's – Marluxia's. It was distinctly inhuman, but this one held an edge that was somehow warmer, brighter, yet all the more dangerous. It caressed his ears in a deadly dance of sound. Like flames…

"Axel, leave," Marluxia ordered flatly. "I won't have you destroying my plants for your own enjoyment."

"I'm sure it serves other purposes than just my enjoyment."

The speaker seemed to exude a light of his own, drawing Roxas's sapphire eyes over towards him. His voice wasn't the only thing that reminded him of a fire; his wildly spiked hair was a lurid crimson, bringing out his pale face and brilliant malachite eyes, of which were far more vivid and striking than Marluxia's. His eyes held more mischief, more energy and passion, while Marluxia's held a serene sort of life. The fire-like man had two black diamonds inked under his eyes, drawing even more attention to his captivating gaze and making the rest of his body almost unnoticeable – tall and slender, moving with a graceful, feline power…

He couldn't be human, either.

Marluxia's expression darkened further, and the blonde boy recoiled slightly; he had already looked livid before, and now he appeared nothing short of furious.

"I haven't the patience to deal with you tonight!"

"So I see," Axel smirked, a Cheshire grin lighting his expression snidely as he made his way over to Roxas, bending down to lower his face level with Roxas's. The blonde attempted to move backwards, eyes narrowing in an intense glare. This man unnerved him.

"What an interesting little human," the redhead mused. "Where did he come from?"

"The clearing," Marluxia spat. "Where else would he have come from, foolish imp?"

Axel ignored the insult, pulling Roxas up and right off his feet, the vines snapping away. The blonde would have been taken aback by his strength, under any other circumstance, but he was far too numb with dread. He began flailing wildly, trying to work his way out of the Axel's grip, but it held firm.

"Lively, too," Axel remarked, sounding as careless as though he was putting forth no effort at all into holding Roxas.

"He's an interesting one, isn't he? Way more fun than the first."

'_The first?'_

"Sora!" Roxas choked out furiously, aiming a kick towards the man's head. "What have you freaks done with my brother?"

Axel looked astounded. "Brother?"

Casting a look back at Marluxia, he quirked an eyebrow.

"All humans look the same to me," the rose-haired man stated indifferently. "I wouldn't recognize who he spoke of, even if I _did_ care."

"Take me to Sora!" Roxas demanded. "I don't care what excuses you have to give, take me to my brother! I'll murder the man who tells me I can't see him!"

It was an empty threat, and he felt foolish for even saying it. He was obviously overpowered, and almost entirely at the redhead's mercy. He couldn't give up, though. Roxas wouldn't give in to the beliefs that these strange people weren't human, that the stories were right…

And he wouldn't give up his mission of finding his twin.

"I'll help you find your brother," Axel spoke up, studying the blonde with apparent interest. Roxas froze.

"…You will?" His voice was heavily laden with caution, and rightly so; Roxas did not trust these people, and obviously with good reason. Axel set him down, nearly dropping him back to his feet.

"You're lost by now," Axel informed him idly. "The trees change. So you have no hope of leaving without a guide, and no doubt your brother is somewhere deep in the wood by now. Unless you wish to go in on your own… but not so many are as kind as I to offer you assistance."

Marluxia snorted derisively, moving past the fire-like man.

"He'd be even more a fool to trust you. I could almost forgive his folly of being born a human; but to willingly follow an imp such as yourself through the forest? Idiocy is even more unforgivable than humanity. Hence my hatred of _you_."

"You wound me. Really." Axel turned away from Marluxia, blatantly ignoring whatever else he had to say.

"Well, sun-boy?"

The moniker struck something inside of Roxas, making him swallow hard, even though his throat was parched and his mouth had gone dry with trepidation. It really appeared as though he had no choice…

Sora was all he had left.

"…Alright."


	2. Caritas

Disclaimer: Shock of all shock, I don't own Kingdom Hearts. But I would kill for my own Zexion, or Demyx, or Axel, or Roxas…

Thank you to my first reviewers, **LioraScarlette**, **ChemicalAttraction**, **IcySapphire15**, and **Mikomi-Kiyoko**! I love you guys, and am deeply grateful for your feedback. You really inspire me to write more.

As for those of you lurking, please review? They make me happy, which makes me write, honest.

And, one last note; when it comes to pairings, this is mostly AkuRoku, a bit of Marxene, and…whatever else is requested. So yeah, tell me what you want, guys! Now, on to the chapter…

* * *

There were many things Roxas was failing to understand. Why, for instance, the wooden man Marluxia had chosen to accompany them? Why he'd even agreed to be led in the first place? He realized how hopeless his situation was, how he had no other choice if he wanted to find Sora, or even leave the forest alive. Yet his mind kept resisting, trying to sway him towards something that made more sense to the cynical blonde.

His reality had been the village, and only the village. It was the place where he was born and raised, the origin of silly stories meant to entertain children and warn them against leaving their tiny community, to keep the peace and make others happy. They weren't supposed to be based upon fact.

But Roxas couldn't deny the absolute inhumanity of the two he travelled alongside.

Further observation, and listening to their manner of speech and traded insults, had yielded information Roxas wasn't sure what to make of. The first man he had run into professed himself to be a man of the wood, which Roxas tentatively drew to mean Druidic. Indeed, everything about him seemed to link back to the forest, his steps like flowers swaying in breezes and movements creeping and deliberate. The foliage around them reacted seemingly without instruction.

In contrast, Axel had been referred to as an 'imp' countless times already. He had to admit, from the fire-man's expression and gesticulations, it didn't seem altogether unlikely. There was a perpetual mischief in his air, a devilish quality that attracted Roxas's gaze, heavily burdened with mistrust and wariness. His movements were careless, free, and powerfully delicate, and the merest flick of a finger seemed so intricate and mesmerizing. He really did remind the fair-haired boy of flame, threatening to spark into a full-blown inferno, given the chance.

He desperately regretted ever venturing into the forest, especially so late at night… he should have called for someone. He should have brought up his theory to the older, stronger folk of the village, and let them seek his brother. Roxas was so much wiser in hindsight alone, it seemed…

"So, sun-boy! What's your brother's scent like?"

The question jarred him out of his thoughts, and struck him as incredibly strange. He frowned and stepped back compulsively, the other two halting in their steps with the increase in distance. 'Halt' wasn't even the right word – Axel seemed to move into the action of stopping his steps, weaving around, while Marluxia stilled in a motionless grace.

Inhuman.

"My brother's _scent?_" he repeated with incredulity and some disgust. "How would I know such a thing?"

"How else would you identify him? A member of your family?" Axel lifted an eyebrow in a delicate motion, the look on his face dubious and silently inquiring as to what Roxas's problem was. "Those pretty eyes can't see for far, I'd imagine, so it only makes sense you'd seek him from afar by scent."

'_Pretty eyes?'_

"Humans are weak, imp," Marluxia interjected smoothly, not even sparing either of them a glance. "They don't have those kinds of capabilities. They see what is put in front of them, smell what is shoved under their noses, and hear what is muttered directly in their ears."

Roxas felt a prickle of insult, glaring with resentment. "That is not true!"

Humans may not have been created perfect, but the rose-haired man described them as though they were all infants – helpless and squawking in a mother's arms and expecting the world handed to them at a mere cry. Indeed, his tone of revulsion made it sound as though he had some sort of vendetta against Roxas's kind…

'_But – no! These men are delusional! Or…figments of my imagination. There are no such things as creatures of the forest.'_

Perhaps he was dreaming; maybe he had fallen asleep while tending to the coop. Any moment now, Sora would shake him awake, teasing him gently. Or perhaps he would be angry, for who knew how long the fair-haired of the two had been slumbering away…

A tickling sensation brushed across his eyelids, and he clenched them firmly shut. He wouldn't shed tears, not in front of these _freaks_. He felt ashamed for even feeling the need to. Worse, though, was his situation – he wasn't dreaming. The only family he had left was lost somewhere among the haunted trees, with madmen roaming about, Roxas himself in their clutches…

No one even knew he was gone. Would they notice right away, or would it take hours before they gave up on finding him, the way they had with Sora? Would all traces of the siblings vanish within a mere twenty-four hours? Would anyone even care…?

He wouldn't see his brother's funeral, or his own. This thought struck an odd chord of sadness in him, as though he regretted that fact. Neither boy was _dead_, though… but no doubt within a few days time, memories of the twins will have been passed on as opposed to their souls, and all hope of ever seeing them again would be abandoned. They would fade, in the village's eyes. Kairi would probably cry. Riku would be unappeasably angry for days, perhaps weeks on end.

Why had this happened?

Something soft and warm brushed his cheek, the sudden contact making Roxas shudder and jerk back as his eyes flew open. Axel was licking the boy's tear from his finger with a thoughtful expression, as if musing on the flavour, or pondering as to why he was crying at all.

"Your eyes…" the fire-man drew out the words, trailing off distractedly. Shaking his head slightly, his mane of hair waving a bit with the movement and reminding Roxas even more of a ripple through flame, Axel looked back at Marluxia.

"Well, if we can't go by scent, what do we have to go by?"

The rose-haired man granted him an annoyed glower.

"I hardly could care less. This is your mission; the boy is _your_ charge. I have come along only to ensure you harm none of the forest's offspring."

'_Charge? How dare he…he speaks as though I'm a child!'_

He had seen sixteen years; near enough to manhood…

Axel sneered slightly, the expression the farthest thing from malicious. He looked almost delighted with Marluxia's cool accusation.

"I assure you, I would do _no_ such thing. And the sun-boy only snapped the stick off that tree to trudge through your overgrown floor. The plants seem almost wild, here."

Marluxia had turned away from him again almost the moment he'd begun speaking, starting to drift off on his own. Axel cocked his head slightly, a strange, quirky sort of grin on his face, before taking Roxas's hand to prompt him to follow. The blonde recoiled, wrenching it away as quickly as possible and clutching his walking staff.

'_How pleasantly warm…'_

The contact, so comfortable in its heat, had been a welcome change from the chill of the night air, and that was perhaps what had disturbed him in such a way. He didn't wish to accept anything about this strange scenario, or find any sort of solace in these insane people. He wouldn't even be thankful if – _when _– they took him to Sora.

Axel didn't appear offended by the gesture, though, to his slight relief. He did not wish to anger a man who had proven himself to be much stronger than he, and was not in his right mind. To ask such questions with obvious sincerity behind them, and to simply move and act in such a way – he wasn't thinking properly, clearly. Madmen were dangerous when their ire was spiked…

"Well," the redhead spoke out loud, tone light and conversational even though most of what he said seemed to be directed towards himself. Another sign of insanity, Roxas noted.

"I would suppose the best person to ask about a human's whereabouts would be the shadow-walker – he would be the one to see the most, being night. Tell me, sun-boy, how long have you been searching for your brother?"

Roxas, recognizing that he as the one being spoken to – though why Axel had chosen to continue referring to him as 'sun-boy' was beyond him – cleared his throat nervously.

"I only entered the wood far after sunset. He's been missing for far longer… around midday."

"He may not know, then," Axel's lips angled downwards, thinking. "Marluxia, I don't suppose you've any ideas on who would know?"

"I will take you as far as the lightning-thrower, and then consider yourselves abandoned."

Axel's expression lit up, snickering wickedly. "Ah, of course. Larxene would not care for a human boy, though; I see no point in taking us to her… Unless, of course, you've other reasons for your visit."

"That is no business of yours."

He let the matter drop, his expression and tone knowing enough to torment Marluxia without the need to say anything further. Roxas chose not to dwell on any of this – it was no business of his, and his focus was all on his brother, anyway.

What he could register, though, despite his strong desire not to, was that, from all this discussion of others residing within the forest… that Sora could be in more danger than he'd ever anticipated. There were more crazy people in the forest, with titles such as 'shadow-walker' and 'lightning-thrower' – obviously they were the same sorts as the two he was already unwillingly acquainted with. His heart sank with dread, wondering how many there really were… it had been implicit that the two others were not the only ones they could turn to in Roxas's search.

It seemed he was dwelling, no matter how determined he had been not to. It didn't matter, though. He had every right to fret over the madmen's words. Marluxia was taking them to yet another freak, he was hopelessly lost within the trees, and he had no hope of fighting them.

What was it Axel had said before? That the trees change?

Insanity, obviously, but perhaps he meant all the trees looked the same, so when he was running it would seem as though the forest itself had switched itself around, while in reality Roxas would only be scurrying in circles. Like a rat in a cage…

Of course, despite what he had seen already, he refused to relent to the possibility Axel had meant those words literally. Trees couldn't move around on their own accord.

Nor could men come out of their barks, but Marluxia had done just that…

With a soft groan, Roxas stopped walking, collapsing against the rough surface of the ground, shoulders sagging. He was feeling so incredibly exhausted, and his recurring thoughts were steadily draining him. He couldn't give up – he had to find Sora – but he found that the will to walk onwards was leaving him.

"Marluxia, the human boy fell."

"Pick him up and carry him if you must, imp, I refuse to stop. Nor will I degrade myself by… _touching_ a human. The duty falls to you."

Roxas didn't want to be touched or carried any more than Marluxia seemed willing to volunteer himself for the task. These men were crazy – dodgy. He couldn't put himself at even more at their mercy than he already was. The advantages were already all stacked in their favour…

But he didn't have time to protest before he was heaved up onto Axel's back, feeling his eyes slide closed almost instantly. He was so warm… were humans capable of producing such wondrous heat? It could have been overbearing, yet it wasn't. It was just pleasant, like setting him down near a campfire; close enough to have the pyre's warmth wash over him in constant waves, but not close enough to burn.

Roxas was more tired than he'd realized.

"Rest, my sun-boy. We don't need you conscious."

'_What an ominous phrase…'_

Didn't need him conscious for what? To find Sora, or was there something more sinister at play?

"Sleep."

* * *

Sensation came first. The surface he half-lay upon was cushioned, something hard and solid beneath it – he was atop foliage, with the hard ground beneath. He could gather that much. His upper body was encircled by something, keeping his shivers to a minimum. He had not changed out of his half-open work shirt, the material chilled from the air meeting sweat-dampened cloth. He felt unwashed and uncomfortable, as a result, and groaned slightly when the sun struck his closed eyelids, turning everything in his sight a familiar scarlet.

Where had he seen a shade so vibrant? It hadn't been long ago, he was sure. It didn't matter, though; for, now that comprehensible thought had returned to him, it was time to stir. He had another day of work ahead of him, probably unaided by his younger twin…

He opened his eyes to a rude awakening. He lay on the forest floor, half-sitting up and draped back across a man's chest, Marluxia kneeling not far off and gently fondling a wilted flower, as though it had been crushed underfoot. Roxas lurched forward, away from Axel, tumbling forwards and scraping his shoulder against the dirt.

The fair-haired boy didn't know how far they had travelled, or if they had gone anywhere at all. Everything looked the same, every tree and flower and bush all alike. Axel greeted him with an puckish grin, obviously amused by Roxas's method of waking up.

"Welcome to the morn," he chuckled lowly, the sound somehow sinful. Axel seemed to be a devil rather than an imp, to him. If, indeed, he _was_ an imp…

'_Of course he's not…he's human. They both are. There are no other creatures that walk on two legs and can speak human language – they're just crazy.'_

Marluxia straightened himself up to stand, brushing flecks of dirt off his grass-woven coat crossly. The flower he had been tending had flourished again, blooming straight up with petals opened and beaming towards the sunshine.

"Have you no consideration?" he demanded, making Roxas start. After a beat of silence, and the human boy inferred he was the one being spoken to, hesitantly opening his mouth to ask what he had done to evoke the rose-haired man's anger.

A different voice, distinctly female, didn't give him the chance to respond.

"It's just a flower, Marluxia. And it was planted in my way. I suggest you transplant it elsewhere – somewhere of less inconvenience."

She was slender and pale, hair of a light hue with abnormally long bangs swept directly back, giving Roxas the impression of lightning bolts tilted downwards, if only to comply with gravity's demands. Her eyes were pale storms of blue, and she would have been pretty were it not for the subtle, but unmistakable cruelty in her expression. She gave the impression of a sadist – of a wry and manipulative nymph. Every movement was unsettlingly quick, and every alteration in her expression was as instantaneous as a twitch; she was evidently the same inhuman type of person as her comrades. She was someone who could snap a person's neck with the sweetest of smiles, before the victim even realized how close she had come.

Roxas wouldn't want to be anywhere near her, but Marluxia seemed to feel otherwise, stepping closer to the female with a deepened frown as though she had paid him the highest of insults. "Had you not been traipsing about in such a manner, you never would have stepped on it in the first place," he said firmly. "Or else, you were deliberately aiming to affront me; was that your intent?"

She didn't deny this claim, running a finger from his chin down his chest in a motion made to appease.

"You take yourself far too seriously."

The action seemed to throw Marluxia for a moment, distracting him from his ire briefly before it flared, eyes narrowing and brow contracting in a show of focus.

"Larxene, distracting me won't work…"

"Won't it?" her voice dropped silkily, and he swallowed slightly. The gesture was nearly unnoticeable, but clearly the woman had caught it. Her smirk widened victoriously.

Axel cut in on their moment, obviously not content to watch their interaction and waste time in such a manner.

"Marluxia, I assume we're abandoned, now?"

"Quite right," his voice dropped icily, though it gained Larxene's attention. Her stare was directed towards Roxas, now, smirk hardening in a condescending way.

"A little human boy, in the Forest of Veritas?" she laughed, the sound like a crack of mockery. "This isn't a place for his kind; humans are built on lies, and the forest grew from truth. I would be disgusted to stumble upon one of his kind – what are you doing with one, Marluxia?"

"He's seeking another one," the rose-haired man sounded disinterested, though he appeared to agree whole-heartedly with the fact that he shouldn't be invading what seemed to be 'their home'.

"His brother, if I recall correctly."

Larxene laughed again. "I would love to lose _my_ brother. I see not what his issue is, and why it brings him here."

Roxas felt a ripple of anger surge under his skin, but kept warily kept his silence. Axel spoke next instead, getting to his feet with a flat look directed at the woman.

"His brother is somewhere here, in the forest, he says," the fire-man informed her nonchalantly. Marluxia muttered under his breath darkly, something about 'being overrun', to which Larxene snickered behind a hand in a way that seemed to convey false bashfulness.

"Until the brother is found, he seems to have no intent of leaving…and our forest will have two humans more than it should."

Roxas caught on too late to his maneuvering; he was directing their intent to force him to endure the company of both these strange people. What was worse…it seemed to be working. Larxene had pulled an expression of aversion, obviously not liking the idea of humans in the forest – what had she called it? The Forest of Veritas? – and Marluxia, who seemed to have a countenance of eternal vexation, had narrowed his eyes even more.

"I see," Larxene articulated slowly, the decrease of quickness unnerving to the fair-haired boy. "So, finding this other human will rid our woods of the vermin? Is that what you're getting at?"

"Indeed it is," Axel grinned. "I thought I would seek out the shadow-walker next. If he cannot tell me where to find a lost little human, the earth-shaker will, I'm sure. They generally don't stray far from each other…" His expression darkened. "Though, where those two are, the frost-maker surely follows."

'_Earth-shaker? Frost-maker? How many of these people are there…! Though, I wonder what he has against this…"frost-maker", to make him grimace like that…'_

Why did Roxas care about something so trivial? This madman had little to do with _him_, even if he _had_ volunteered his assistance to find his missing twin. All he needed to be concerned with was how many freaks he would be forced to encounter…and how many Sora had already run into.

Was he safe? Was he dead?

"I will not travel with a human," Larxene announced, "but I will seek the other out. We shall meet in three days time – if we find the boy, we will bring him to you then. If not, we shall continue our divided search."

Roxas wasn't sure if he was relieved or not. At least _he_ wouldn't have to deal with three insane non-humans. He was still stranded with the fire-man, but he supposed it was preferable to being so heavily outnumbered. He was still overpowered though, no matter who stayed and who went…he didn't dare think he would have a better chance with the female.

"Very well," Axel bowed graciously. "Your assistance is greatly appreciated."

Larxene scorned his play at respect, vanishing in a crack of thunder; though how, Roxas couldn't see, for a brilliant flash of light momentarily blinded his vision. Blinking rapidly in an attempt to clear his eyes, spots still flashing and dancing under his irises, the boy allowed the smallest of gasps to escape his throat to see the female gone without a trace.

Marluxia was leaving the way he'd first appeared – integrating with the bark of a tree behind him – the grass of his coat receding and rooting itself into the earth. Roxas couldn't help the shiver trailing up his spine, making him tremble uncertainly. It was so peculiar, so impossible, so _wrong_…

"Shall we?" Axel extended a hand towards the boy on the ground, cocking his head to the side and grinning widely, his expression almost inviting.

"I don't think you'll be able to find anyone from down there, sun-boy."

"…Roxas," the blonde mumbled, ignoring the proffered hand and standing on his own.

"I'm sorry?" Axel blinked slowly, silently asking him with his facial expression alone to repeat himself, even though he had a good idea of what had been said.

"My name… it's Roxas."


	3. Castitas

Disclaimer: Still no Kingdom Hearts. Apparently, puppy-eyes don't work on lawyers when I pretend Roxas is mine…

Thanks this time around to **kotilo**, **ChemicalAttraction**, anonymous reviewers **Wirewisp** and **Jackie**, and **Mikomi-Kiyoko**, my reviewers from last chapter! I really appreciate your feedback, since reviews let me know I'm doing _something_ right and shouldn't just scrap the story…

I once again implore my readers to tell me what other side pairings they want…'cause I am at a loss…that said, have a chapter, my good friends!

* * *

If someone were to pass by – not that anyone ever did, because no human ever went so far into the forest – one may have thought Lexaeus was a boulder. He did not bear the colours of one. He appeared as human as any other person, if one discounted his sheer mass of height and muscle; his earth-toned hair was left untamed, though it seemed to retain its tidiness nevertheless, and his chiselled features were set into a stony expression of calm. Everything about him was grounded, for even when he moved his steps seemed heavier than they should be, and every muscle made him move slow, deliberate, and with more power than anything else in nature. In his slowness and his silence, the most natural assumption to make would be that he was stupid, while in reality he was possibly the most intelligent of all creatures. He watched. He listened.

While Lexaeus was counted among one of the most intelligent, his comrade was unquestionably the all-knowing. With every shadow at his command, with every bit of knowledge he could find pouring into his calculating mind and storing there, Zexion was the keeper of secrets – the manipulator of shadows – and undisputedly respected. With that respect came a healthy fear of him, second only to the fear of their forest's overlord. The way he moved betrayed all that he was; steps purposeful and confident, but soundless and gliding, as if he were walking not on ground but on the shadows that littered the earth, instead. His silver-slate hair fell in an elegant curtain over his right eye, the visible left hued a soul-searching cerulean with a darkness swirling behind it that haunted those who locked gazes with him for too long. His figure was slight, and could slip back into shade in such a way that rendered him nigh invisible. Indeed, if there was a question to be asked, Zexion would know the answer, or else an answer just didn't exist.

Not that it guaranteed Zexion would spill his answers. Some called him an Oracle; he would tell only what he felt he needed to tell, and say no more than that.

Vexen was the final member of their secluded assemblage, and had been the initial link between the two; however, as the decades had passed on, the three had formed an unspoken bond that shut out all others. Where Vexen went, a creeping chill of fog and frost followed. No less intelligent than Lexaeus, but quicker to let his over-analytical coldness get the better of him, Vexen gave one the unmistakeable impression of ice. His blonde hair had a translucent sheen to it, and his eyes seemed to reflect back the forest's greenery, like chips of ice with a smooth, mirrored surface. Even his facial features were sharp and angular, like the jutting edges of an iceberg. His hurried movements made it look as though he was melting, smoothly slipping past trees and weaving through the easiest path to take, but he always remained frozen and stable.

Neither shadow nor ice was present, now. Lexaeus was alone, looking to be in a sort of deep meditation, sitting among rocks and gravel and staring through closed eyes.

He'd sensed something in the late morning not twenty-four hours ago, and he'd been trying to grasp the feeling back, attempting to pinpoint the disturbance and hypothesise on what it was. At first he'd almost passed it off as Larxene, likely stirring up a storm simply out of boredom, but concluded that it had felt very different from that, indeed. It had started on the outside of the forest, in the human's clearing, and worked its way further in.

Then, after nightfall, a similar disturbance followed, only to encounter familiar presences – Marluxia, for he'd felt his rage, and Axel. The impish redhead was never hard to identify, the perpetual heat washing off him in waves a doubtless indicator of who he was. It was similar to the sort of aura that Vexen had, of the opposing element.

And so Lexaeus, content in his solitude, tracked Axel and the peculiarity as they trekked about, seemingly aimlessly. The initial disturbance had been put out of his mind completely with his steady focus.

So immersed was he, in fact, that he failed to notice the sharp drop in temperature. He had nothing to fear from it, and thus had trained himself not to react, either consciously or subconsciously.

"Lexaeus," the man's voice held a strange ringing quality, like the clinking and shattering of ice. It held that sour note of cold whenever he was displeased; it wasn't a pleasant noise, and the larger of the two took a split second to recall the softness it could hold when he was more at ease, like drifting snow. Lexaeus's eyes opened, revealing them to be a deep shade caught in a war between murky green, cloudy grey, and softened blue. It was like someone had replaced his irises with miniatures of the planet Earth itself.

The opening of his eyes was his wordless greeting, something Vexen acknowledged with a curt nod before succinctly stating what may have been the beginnings of a tirade. "There is a _human_ in the forest."

Now, that was an intriguing bit of news. Lexaeus sharpened his mind again, locating the 'disturbance' with Axel, his inkling based on that new bit of information. Indeed, it held a similar quality to that of the concentrated of mass in the clearing-turned-village that disrupted the Forest of Veritas.

"It was bad enough that they dared venture into our territory all those decades ago," Vexen seethed. "Have they no respect for ground that isn't theirs? Have they come to claim more of what isn't theirs, thinking that planting a pole with waving colours sewn into fabric can title a territory under their own names? A flag does not a country make, and 'conquering' without even fighting in the first place is outright thievery… And to think, one of our own is escorting him, carting him around like a slave. What a disgrace Axel is to us…"

It had always been a sore spot with the blonde man that part of their forest had been snatched up for human purposes the way it had been. Yet, at the same time, Vexen could not deny his intrigue with the species. Their physiology was so different from their own, and yet so incredibly similar. He wasn't sure of their reasoning behind things, and the natural analytical part of his mind all but begged him to study the strange, invasive beings.

Zexion had once remarked before on the irony of not understanding a species that would not exist without them, but the comment had been passed off fairly quickly.

By now, Lexaeus was basically tuning out Vexen as he grumbled on about the discrepancy, focusing instead on those thoughts of how to placate his frigid comrade. And, inferring that the first disturbance he'd felt before the human with Axel came along, he thought he knew how to do it.

"Vexen."

The man cut off mid-sentence, for it was recognised that when the earth-shaker spoke, it was something to be heeded. Given that he rarely said a word, his few and far between sentences were something to be valued.

"While I have long since lost his location, there is another human other than the one with Axel."

"So there have been multiple intrusions on us," Vexen sneered darkly. "You have a point, I would imagine?"

It could have sounded caustic, but Lexaeus, knowing how to read him, knew he was already thinking along the same lines as he had supposed the blonde would. He was too much of a scientist by nature.

"He is alone, and thus is left unprotected. While I would imagine Axel's human has been adopted as somewhat of a pet, the lonesome one would be free for examination."

A new subject to study; that was always the way to appease Vexen. Heavy eyelids lowered slightly over ice-green, considering the possibilities that had arisen with the arrival of these humans.

"I shall seek the human out," Vexen announced, as Lexaeus had known he would. "It seems only right to put the creature to good use. After all, its kind has taken advantage of the forest that was never theirs to rest on, and was so bold as to infect the part of the woods that still belong to us. It's completely justifiable."

Lexaeus neither agreed nor disagreed. He simply closed his eyes again and meditated.

* * *

They had yet to find this 'shadow-walker' Axel had mentioned. In fact, they had yet to find much of anything at all, for as far as Roxas knew they were wandering around in continuous circles. There was absolutely nothing to identify his surroundings with, and with the ground effectively concealed with grass and greenery, he couldn't even check for his own footprints. He had begun to lean more weight on his walking stick, not out of fatigue, but out of exasperation. The madman didn't seem to have much of a sense of direction, in his opinion.

Axel looked quite deviously merry, leading Roxas wherever it was they were going and occasionally halting altogether, taking tentative sniffs at the air or scanning the expanse of woods before him. Even more unsettling was the way he would, on occasion, mutter something to himself, cursing or laughing.

He had stopped walking again, finger reaching up to toy with a drooping moss entwined around a tree branch hanging just taller than the fire-man's head.

"Do you recognise this tree?" he asked suddenly, glancing over his shoulder at the fair-haired human boy. Roxas plunged his walking stick down, burying the end in the dirt and supporting himself on it completely, glancing with a lack of interest at said tree.

"Why?" his voice was blunt. "Have you been leading us nowhere?"

If it was as he suspected, overpowered or not, he was going to cause as much pain to the other as physically possible…

"No. We've been walking in a straight line," Axel's fingers ran along the dry moss again, playing with it idly. "He has been moving the trees again, even knowing we are on a mission… even being on that same mission, himself. He never changes."

"Trees don't move." _'Insanity.'_

"What was that, you say?" Axel turned to face Roxas, giving him a strange look; appraisal, interest, disbelief and humour, as well as something foreign the blonde couldn't place.

"Trees never stop moving. They're as alive as you or I, why would they be stationary?"

Roxas inwardly grimaced, taken aback by the nonsensical logic of the crazy man, but he shrugged and debated anyway, trying to make him see some sense without angering him. "They're rooted to the ground," he explained, trying and failing to not sound condescending, as though Axel were a very young child.

"And why would the earth not cooperate to give them movement?" Axel snorted; his tone was similar to Roxas's own, as if he were clarifying that the sky was blue, or the grass was green. "Trees are about as immobile as _rocks_ are."

From his dubious tone, it was clear to the fair-haired boy that he believed stones were just as capable of travel. He rolled his brilliantly sapphire eyes.

"Agreed," he said shortly, deciding to argue no further on the matter. It was all so inane. He couldn't be expected to tolerate such insanity for much longer… "Do you know where we are, then?"

"Of course," Axel replied, his attention having gone back to the mossy tree once the argument had been so abruptly ended. "It's just interesting to note that your brother will be increasingly lost, since Marluxia will continue to change the forest to suit whatever his needs are. Not to mention that with each tree changing, a different shadow is cast…"

All Roxas managed to understand of that was that Sora would be harder to find, and an area between his stomach and heart clenched.

"I'd appreciate if you stopped wasting time," he ground out, teeth gritting together almost painfully. Axel seemed to comply, abandoning the tree and starting to move ahead. Roxas jerked his staff free and trailed behind the fire-man, not noticing the way the moss had started to smoke slightly.

"Hey, Roxas…"

The fair-haired boy shuddered when his name was said; Axel had a strange way of saying it, one unfamiliar to him that made a peculiar heat travel up his spine. He made a small, noncommittal sound of acknowledgement.

"What's your human village like?" It was spoken so genuinely and naturally that once the strong impact of Axel's apparent lack of humanity struck the blonde, he nearly felt the urge to shiver again.

"What do humans do all day?"

"Work, mostly," Roxas replied, voice clipped with anxiety. He wasn't sure why he kept humouring the strange red-haired man; perhaps only for his self-preservation and to keep him walking. If Axel could actually manage to lead him to Sora, he would answer whatever questions he decided to ask.

"Work? Work at what?"

"Tending the crops and animals," he shrugged disinterestedly, even though the other's back was turned to him.

"Children and women usually work around the houses… cleaning, preparing the food we cultivate, tasks like that. Almost every family only has one specific duty, and the benefits are shared among the village. It's easier than trying to run an entire farm in such a small amount of space, and there aren't enough hours in a day to manage everything."

"Really?" Axel sounded surprised. "That sounds like nonsense to me. Twenty-four hours would be plenty of time…"

Roxas frowned. "Hardly. We can't work for those full hours; we need to eat, sleep…"

"Oh, right!" Axel shook his head, reprimanding himself in his tone. "I forgot about human habits. My mistake, sorry."

'_Freak.'_

"What do you do when you aren't working?" Axel still sounded honestly interested, so Roxas continued to play along with his absurd questions.

"There's hardly any time when we aren't working… but… I guess, we tell stories. Most of them are…" he hesitated; would it sound so strange to say that they traded tales about the very forest they wandered? About creatures he was so sure didn't exist, and yet there seemed to be one of them right before him?

He picked up his sentence again, diverting it from what he had been about to say.

"Most of them are folklore. Very classic; they originated from our village's ancestors. None of them are real, but they keep the children entertained."

"Do _you_ find them entertaining?" Axel hadn't sounded insulting, but indignation flashed across Roxas's expression like lightning parting through clouds. To him, the redhead had insinuated he was a child, and while he had to admit he may not have been a man yet, he was by no means a kid. He'd stopped considering himself as such – and indeed, the village had done the same – when his father had disappeared. If he was old enough to work, he was old enough to warrant some adult respect.

"I've outgrown those stories," he spat irately, feeling a twinge of satisfaction at seeing Axel draw away slightly, though it was undoubtedly more out of confusion than any sort of fear. Roxas was certain he was about as intimidating to the madman as an insect was to the blonde.

"But did you like them, once?" The redhead pressed, and he found memories unwillingly swim to the surface. He recalled every vision of his father, Sora huddled at his feet with wide-eyes as he absorbed rather than listened, while Roxas perched on his bed and attentively drank in the wealth of fantasy-veiled warnings his beloved parent had to offer.

"Perhaps, once." He'd stopped listening to them completely when there had been no one left to tell them…

Axel dropped his inquiries after that, to which Roxas felt relieved. He would have preferred to leave all those agonisingly comforting recollections alone. His concentration should have all been focused on the task at hand; on saving his brother – the family he still had. It wasn't a time for thinking about the family he didn't have.

Life without Sora would be horrifically lonely, Roxas knew. In truth, he had no friends. Riku and Kairi tolerated him, for Sora's sake, for his twin was the bubbly and loved one of the pair. He was a social person, craving contact with other people and enjoying soaking in their admiration and affection.

Roxas wasn't like that. The elder of the twins never said much, and never volunteered his greeting first. He would have called himself shy but polite, but if he were being honest with himself, he was simply antisocial. The fair-haired teen enjoyed solitude, and silence; he'd found that there was very few people he could tolerate for lengthy periods of time. He preferred the company of the _chickens_ to that of the villagers, in fact.

And yet, he was only human. Roxas had to admit that he wouldn't survive well on his own. No person could; it was humanly ingrained to seek others of their kind, to take comfort in another's presence and body–…

Roxas could feel his face grow heated; he hadn't meant to think of that, whether it was true or not. But… he could help but wonder if these 'forest creatures' felt the same need, if they existed as something inhuman…

Did Axel…?

'_How – How can I be thinking in such a way? I have much more important things to think about! Remember Sora, find Sora! Follow Axel, escape as soon as possible…!'_

Roxas's cheeks were burning with flush pink by now, distressed that he would let his mind wander in that direction when there was so much to focus on. The way Axel moved, for instance. So like a flame. Captivating…

But did that really make him something other than human? It couldn't be possible, and he felt ridiculous for even musing on such a ridiculous subject, but… nevertheless… it wouldn't leave his mind. The idea that these creatures were…just that. Creatures. Despite all the humanity in their appearances…

Though, what human had rose-tinted hair and vanished into trees, like Marluxia? What human vanished in flashes of light, like Larxene? What human had so many unrealistically vibrant shades in their hair and eyes, moved as though constantly dancing, had so much magnificent warmth, like Axel?

Mentally, he released a broken sigh. He just wasn't ready to accept that his cynicism, which he always coveted, could possibly have betrayed him. That Sora, in all his naivety, had been correct while he had been wrong, simply because he had been unwilling to open his mind to such wonders.

Was it possible…?

"Ah!"

Roxas stopped, nearly tripping over himself as he stumbled into Axel's back. The redhead's hand shot back to right him, supporting him until he'd recaptured his balance. Said fire-man was grinning, as though he'd just made the world's finest discovery, before falling into a bit of a mock-bow. Roxas tried to shrink into himself, feeling something almost ominous in the air…

Or in the shadows.

The movement was, at first, so slight he thought it had been a trick of his eyes – a mere illusion. Then the shadows had contracted, flitting back and travelling over the thick trunk of a tree, and Roxas knew it hadn't been his imagination.

Slinking out from the solid shade, Zexion regarded the two before him with a nonchalant air, as though he had expected them completely, and the fair-haired boy had no choice in the matter anymore.

These people were real. And they most certainly weren't human.


	4. Humanitas

Disclaimer: I'm waiting for my rights to Kingdom Hearts to be delivered. Damn that postman…

Thanks this time goes to my new editor and good friend **ChemicalAttraction**! As well as five of my reviewers, **Hermaphrodite**, **XAxel's Memory RemainsX**, **OrochiSama**, **Lunar Chasmodai**, and **Silver Tears 11**!

Once again, I beg my readers; **give me pairing requests**! All of the Organization members will be showing up, so I want to know if you want them single or screwing.

…I mean…uh, well. On to the chapter, shall we?

* * *

They had hit a lull in their search, if it could have been called that in the first place.

Larxene's lightning-quick movements dashing through the trees had enticed Marluxia enough to shove aside all thoughts of humans and tracking, instead weaving from tree to tree and eventually springing, catching the lightning-thrower, only to roughly press his mouth upon hers. She had smirked into the kiss, as though that had been her intent all along, and their actions had escalated from there. They had spent the better part of their hours exhausting themselves, uncaring of anything but the pleasure they were finding in their bodies.

The leaves under his head rustled as they relocated, creating a higher place to rest, rose-coloured locks spilling over the deep greenery. Marluxia's eyes drifted languidly closed, hand trailing down Larxene's spine. She shuddered slightly, shifting and lifting her head, which had been resting on the Druidic man's chest, staring at him with her storm-cloud blue eyes.

"What are we doing?"

"Resting," Marluxia answered simply in a peaceful drawl, either not catching or ignoring her vexed tone.

The lightning-nymph's eyes darkened slightly, narrowing into mere slits as she bit back an irate sigh.

"I meant what are we doing _here_, out looking for a human boy as some sort of _favour_? As much as the humans don't belong here, why does it fall to us to find him and send him on his merry way?"

Marluxia's ministrations halted; she had brought up a good point. Neither lightning-thrower nor flora-cultivator were suited as messengers or deliverers, and his indignation had been grabbing at his attention since they had been first sent out on such a ridiculous mission.

"Well," he said slowly, mind working to formulate a solution Larxene would like. "Perhaps finding the human can be worked to our advantage, if we were to find him before Axel does. We could finally cleanse our forest… get the humans out."

Larxene only grumbled. "What will that accomplish? You make it sound as if we'll be doing the very same thing we already are…"

"You misinterpret my words," a smirk began to blossom over his face. "I mean _all_ the humans. Out of our forest _entirely_."

Finding one human to serve as leverage to evict all the other humans from their forest altogether… to take back the clearing the vile creatures had sown and built upon, unjustly declaring it their own and stealing it, unknowingly, from those who rightfully owned the Forest of Veritas. It would mean getting rid of the annoyances and preventing such an incident of one wandering boy from ever happening again…

Larxene understood. And brightly, evilly, she smiled.

* * *

Axel straightened out of his bow and righted the blonde human, helping him regain his footing until he was steady in his balance.

"Zexion, you were just who I was hoping to meet," he greeted, tone having dulled in its warmth to gentle embers. He didn't seem subdued, but more as if he was preparing himself, ready to slip into a pyre if he wasn't told what he wanted to hear. "I've been searching for hours on end; you're a very elusive target."

"I'm aware."

His voice was as dark as he was, monotonous and heavy, but soft and swift. Indeed, his lips seemed to move and produce no sound at all, words caressing Roxas's ears hauntingly as though they had been whispered there, left to echo in his mind and making him wonder if he'd heard him correctly. Sound didn't travel with Zexion; it teleported to where it needed to go. So unearthly…

The ambiguity of his answer unnerved Roxas slightly, as well. Zexion could have meant he had known that his presence was what Axel had been hoping for, that they had been looking for a long while, or that he was elusive. The tone of his voice was implicit of everything, though, as though every thought running through their heads were open for perusal. The way he stared was enough to give that subtle suspicion merit, as ludicrous as it sounded in the blonde human's head – what, during the past hours, had _not_ felt absurd?

Roxas wondered what the stranger was. If Axel was – as he'd been called – an imp, what did that make this man? Could he even be called a man? In appearance, he looked only a year or two older than the fair-haired boy was. But who could say how old these… things… really were?

Axel, were he human, couldn't have been more than nineteen. It was safe to guess he'd lived out at least so many years, then, but who knew how old he really was? Had he seen years, decades…centuries…?

'_I don't remember any details about the stories concerning imps. Were there ever any? I can't imagine they're good creatures to encounter, though…'_

Indeed, with his wicked air and devilish grins, as well as his utterly entrancing way of moving, could he count himself safe with Axel? He hadn't been even on the verge of trusting the redhead, but he was the furthest thing from believable in his mind, now. He wasn't even a creature he'd considered _real_, until he was forced to accept that these things existed.

He felt a strong surge of dislike. He wasn't fond of what was so impossible to understand; everything about his situation was baffling, and he had no stories to fall back on. None of them seemed to be able to encapsulate the true nature of these creatures… none had ever captured the way they moved, spoke, _were_…

Roxas wondered if his brother was having an easier time, on his own.

"So, what can you tell us about the missing human boy?" Axel questioned, voice taking on an eager edge. He seemed to be enjoying the search, although why, Roxas couldn't begin to fathom. He supposed it was a break from the forest's monotony, but that didn't quell his indignation at all; the red-haired imp was treating his brother's disappearance like a game…

"What _can_ I tell you, or what will I?"

Already, Roxas didn't like Zexion. The flatly intoned answer had been, in his opinion, a way of blatantly dodging the question. Axel, however, looked intrigued.

"So there are things you can't tell us…"

The fair-haired human looked between the non-human creatures sharply.

'_So that was what he was implying? Why would he not be able to tell us everything he knows?'_

"Indeed," Zexion replied succinctly.

"Well, then… the guessing game is on," the redhead's eyes narrowed, and in a flash, he'd transformed from the light-hearted dancing imp to something more ominous, his resemblance to a devil disconcerting. While before Roxas wouldn't have supposed the two creatures were anything but amiable, it was becoming clearer where they stood; Zexion was in a position of power, though how or why was unknowable, and Axel was only looking for answers, extracting them carefully without drawing an unwanted response, like the shadow-walker leaving or lying.

It hadn't occurred to Roxas that one creature could hold something over another like that. It was no different from human behaviour.

"Can you tell me where my brother is?" the fair-haired human demanded, discounting whatever care Axel was taking into consideration with his questions. It was the most important one, to him – all he had set out for…

"No." That was it; the short reply rang in his ears poignantly, ringing in time with his heart beating, blood pulsing against his eardrums and growing louder with his rising frustration.

"Listen to me! I need to know where my brother is, and if you know then how _dare_ you keep that from me - !"

He wasn't thinking properly, that much was clear. Maybe it was because the moon-haired creature looked so much more on his own level of strength, or maybe he'd honestly snapped. However, after Roxas lunged, all he knew was a crushing pain and Axel's startled cry.

'_What… what's holding… what is…?'_

Shadow. Entwining his body, constricting it, locking him painfully tight in a blanket of darkness. How it had moved, how it had _formed_, the fair-haired human didn't know and didn't care. He just wanted it gone, because he could feel a clammy sensation deep in his bones, as though they were starting to cave in on themselves and choke his lungs…

"Let him _go!_"

The darkness vanished in an inferno, flames catching on air and brightening the area with a furious intensity, the shadows dispersing at the sudden burst of light. Roxas dropped to the ground below, chest heaving and eyes locked on the somehow fascinating forest floor, unwilling to look up.

Whatever Zexion was, he wasn't to be reckoned with.

Piercing emerald glittered jewel-bright with the burning of the flames, fire twisting into itself and burning out with no indication of where it had come from. Even so, Roxas knew. Axel had been the one to produce them, to rescue him from the horrific shadow clamping down on him like that, slowly swallowing him whole…

Zexion didn't appear at all affected by the imp's righteous wrath, smoothly reaching up and running his fingers through the curtain of silver-slate over his right eye. They entangled there, tugging lightly as though reprimanding himself without words, though it couldn't have been what he was actually doing.

"I would advise you don't attack again." His words sounded like simply that; advice.

Roxas nodded vehemently, scrambling back to his feet and feeling bile rise to his throat, sickened by his own compliance. No matter how justified it was, it disgusted him to submit to these freaks.

Even if that had been the worst sensation he'd ever felt, his skin still crawling unpleasantly with the remnants of the shadow's cold grip… it was still submission, and that was something Roxas absolutely abhorred.

"Just tell us whatever you came to."

Any ideas of provoking answers had been torn to ruin, and all Axel seemed to care about now was knowing as much as he could before the blonde human was aggravated into action again. His protectiveness wasn't even something Roxas could think on, too distracted by the vestiges of clammy darkness over his skin, sticking like slime…

He shivered, and Axel pulled him closer, his natural warmth intensifying and pulling his attention towards that, instead.

"The hunt is on," Zexion stated cryptically, and as the redhead opened his mouth to ask what he meant by such a vague statement, he appeared to vanish from sight, slinking away and leaving both imp and blonde-haired boy unsatisfied. Axel scowled, brow knitting with mild frustration – he'd obviously hoped he would have been of more help than that – and glanced towards Roxas.

"How are you feeling?"

"I've felt better, most days," the blonde grumbled. "What-…"

"What did he mean?" Axel finished his question, and Roxas nodded. He wasn't sure _what_ he'd really been about to ask; what was he? What had he disappeared for? What had he done to make those shadows react that way? What did all of that _mean_…?

"Zexion has always been mysterious in his answers – and demeanour, come to think of it – and the conclusions have never come easily… However, with both of us thinking on it, I suppose it won't be quite as difficult as I usually find it to be. Two heads are better than one, and all that."

'_How am I supposed to figure out what he meant when I haven't the faintest idea of what's going on?'_ Roxas silently demanded, but didn't voice his frustration. He only kept silent, allowing Axel to think.

He was unsure of how much confidence he could place in the red-haired imp. He didn't strike him as particularly bright, to his chagrin… perhaps it was simply because of his strange curiosity from the questions he'd asked earlier that Roxas felt that way. If that were so, it was foolish of him to draw such a conclusion; he knew absolutely nothing about Axel's kind, so why should he expect the redhead to know anything about humans?

"…The hunt…the hunt is on…"

* * *

"_Little boy, little boy, do no one no wrong. But don't try to be strong, little boy, little boy_…"

The voice lead him like a siren's call, as sweet and clear as dewdrops before dawn and spiraling towards the source, capturing those who caught the melody and drawing them close. Soft string-play accompanied the beautiful fluidity of the song, sound rippling over the air's surface and washing over him soothingly, regardless of the words being sung. It was like rain to him, refreshing and cool with only the vaguest unpleasantness, the undercurrent sweeping past him fleetingly, not giving him enough time to grasp the dank, dread caution of the lyrics. It was too saccharine, too peaceful to be a warning.

Sora's calloused hands met the smooth bark of a tree, giving him the briefest moment's pause. His skin has darkened with soil and scratches, foliage and gravel having tumbled his body and roughening him. His working clothes, so similar to that of his brother's, had been torn slightly, and his boots had been lost long ago, bare feet raw and bleeding. The blades of grass tickled at his ankles and pricked his soles, but he'd stopped grimacing and wincing. It was regularity, now.

Besides, he had hope. Now he knew he wasn't alone in the forest. He could get help.

"_Little boy, little boy, live your life with ease – but little boy, little boy, keep your oppressors pleased_…"

He shoved himself onwards, stumbling past the thinning trees and nearly collapsing at the bank of the salvation he'd been seeking. He'd entered a grove of sorts, the trees dispersing enough to give way for a small, beautifully blue lake. The water looked to be completely unpolluted, no aquatic life beneath the smooth glassy surface, and so deep that he had no hope of seeing the bottom, even with the water as clear as it was. It went from completely transparent to deepest, blackest of navy somewhere far below, and Sora almost entertained that idea that it had no bottom, simply dropping fathomlessly down into the earth. His hands dipped into the still water – like silk – sending ripples along the edges. Cupping them carefully, he began to draw it towards his lips.

The music stopped.

"Don't drink it!" the familiar voice startled Sora, and the boy promptly fell back, away from the lake's edge and blinking wildly, trying to locate the source of the enchanting voice.

"That water isn't to drink, you see. Not for your kind. I don't think it's safe."

Sora's sapphire eyes – an identical shade to his twin's – sought out the speaker, locating him with a difficulty that surprised him; he bore no disguise of the lake, and yet somehow blended with the water easily. He sat on the other side of the small lake, eyes of startlingly oceanic aqua glittering, alight with things Sora couldn't even begin to name, and trained serenely on him. His irises looked like waves crashing up against his pupils, in fact, a snapshot of the sea. The young man's – for he couldn't be too much older than Sora himself – hair shone like sunlight dancing over the lake's surface, staining it varying shades of gold, from a light dust of flaxen, to deep honeyed ochre, trailing down and curling at his neck. The fluid lines of his lips tilted upwards in a friendly, free smile, though it seemed to be perpetually wilting from its possible brilliance. Perhaps most intriguing was the strange five-stringed instrument lain across his lap, the broadened heart-like shape of the instrument's body elongating into the neck, delicate frets adorning the deep azure sitar.

"Not safe?" Sora repeated, voice cracking slightly. His throat was parched, and a deep disappointment depleted whatever was left of his energy.

"Afraid not," the young man replied, sounding genuinely contrite for the boy as he features took on a thoughtful cast.

"I can help you, though. Marluxia will be angered… but he usually finds reasons to chastise me, so it's no matter."

The lost brunette couldn't comprehend much of what had been said – who was Marluxia? – but watched the strange man rise like liquid to his feet, carrying his sitar over his shoulder and walking around the water's edge, steps smooth and with the slightest bubbly spring to them. It may have looked jaunty, if it weren't simply so fluidic. He tilted his head upwards, eyes searching intently for something in the sky before lowering to the ground.

"Oh! That will do…"

He plucked a budding flower from the ground, snapping the step gently. Sora felt a strange sense of loss – the colourful flora around the lake added to the overall beauty of it so well – but forgot it soon thereafter when the strange man gently unwrapped the petals, just enough to form a sort of spout, and brushed the velvet-smooth across Sora's lips. He tilted it, and rainwater began trickling from the inside of the flower down the thirsty boy's throat.

Relief came instantly, and Sora was too grateful to wonder how such a tiny, delicate blossom managed to hold so much cool liquid. He swallowed the water, his throat placated immediately, and he licked a few stray droplets almost greedily. At last, satisfied, he sighed contently.

"Thank you…"

"You're very welcome," the young man smiled, eyes curving slightly with the light expression, but no matter how it reached his eyes, there was still something distinctly… unhappy about him. Melancholic, almost, with something a touch more sinister; he reminded Sora a bit of a jester.

"You should be on your way." He sat back down by the side of the water, again seeming to blend with the crystalline surface. "You came from the village, didn't you?"

"Yes," Sora seemed a bit taken aback by the question. Indeed he was; it had occurred to him that he had never seen the stranger before, which ruled out the possibility of him being from the village as well. The question implied, to him, that there were other places for others to live…

What he didn't realize was that the question had really been an inquiry to his humanity. The strange man nodded again, head bobbing a bit in time with the music he'd resumed to play.

"You should run," he advised. "I think the hunt has begun. You should get far away, and go back to your village. Before you run into trouble."

Sora didn't understand. He felt tempted to refuse, too, calmed by the tune flowing from the sitar. But he wanted to go home; he had no reason to deny the young man's suggestion. So, with difficulty, he pushed himself off the ground, back up to his feet.

"Run."

And so Sora backed up, a bit unsteadily, before hastening his gait, taking off at a jog and working up to a sprint.

He wanted to go home.

"_Little boy, little boy, don't fight back. Flesh snaps, bones crack, little boy, little boy."_


	5. Temperantia

Disclaimer: All I want for Christmas is the Kingdom Hearts rights. Is that so much to ask?

Once again, my thanks goes to my first five reviewers – **Lunar Chasmodai**, **ChemicalAttraction**, **Hermaphrodite**, **May All Your Bacon Burn**, and **LioraScarlette**! I loved your reviews, they made me all giddy and such.

The votes are in, for the pairings, and I thank you – there will be some Zemyx in here, _and_…though it will mostly be hints…Sora will be paired! With who? That's a mystery…

That will likely become fairly obvious in this very chapter. So I won't keep you. Go ahead, read.

* * *

"We… aren't the only ones searching for Sora," Roxas's voice was dulled with the numb realisation, casting Axel a look that was partially imploring and even more so resigned. "Are we?"

Twilight had settled over the forest, painting the leaves in a deep light for them to bask in. The imp, noting the blonde human's restless fatigue, had commandeered a clear spot of the wood, allowing him to lie there a while. It gave them both time to muse on Zexion's words, and understanding seemed to have dawned at roughly the same time, Axel having become strangely still and quiet moments before Roxas was struck by meaning.

He was baffled as to who would want to pursue Sora, aside from himself. He had only his brother's safety and well-being in mind. What good could be done from these creatures seeking him?

For a horrifying instant, he thought perhaps they intended to devour him, the way naughty children were punished in the stories he'd been told. He hadn't seen Axel feast yet, and so he couldn't be sure of what they ate, if anything at all. The idea that Sora's life may be at risk for the sake of a monster's meal wasn't so farfetched.

The suspicion was shoved aside, though. Surely they wouldn't do something like that, and besides… he just couldn't imagine it. The redhead had shown no signs of interest in _him_, aside from his questioning on how humans lived, so he didn't think he had any intention of slaughtering him. He had already proven himself capable of such a feat, after all.

"No," Axel sat down, crossing his legs underneath him and resting his chin upon the back of his hand, elbow propped casually across his knee in a posture that was relaxed, but protected. "I don't think we are."

"How many of them?" Roxas's throat had gone dry at the confirmation, parched by sudden thirst. It was no surprise he was feeling so terribly – he hadn't had a thing to eat or drink since he had arrived in the forest, and he was approaching his second night within the trees' grasp.

"I could not safely say," the inhuman one replied, heavily weighed by consternate admittance. "I find it likely that Marluxia and Larxene have betrayed us, developing plans of their own. There's also a possibility…no, I changed my mind – it's definite that Vexen has caught wind of your brother's presence in our forest, and he will be intrigued. The only ones I could feel I could safely discount would be Zexion and Lexaeus…"

It took several moments of sharp recollection to place the first two mentioned, and Zexion's memory was still fresh in his mind, but the mention of the two other names baffled him. Roxas was sure he had not encountered 'Vexen' or 'Lexaeus' yet, and he didn't really care to at all. If so many of these beings were like the ones he had already met, then the humans of his village were right to avoid the forest at all costs.

Well, perhaps that was being unfair. Axel was tolerable, at least.

He saw no reason to like or trust the others, though. Two of them had made threats to Roxas's very existence – one with words, and one with the shadows themselves – and Larxene just struck him as disturbing, her quirks instinctively putting him on edge and the cruelty in her expression impossible to overlook.

"I don't see what interest the Superior would have in your brother, and Saïx has little interest for anything but the moon," Axel had continued to speak, more to himself than to Roxas as he went over the list of possibilities, if only for his own sake. He wanted to know who it was he would be contending with.

"Xigbar and Luxord, however, may just want to make a game of it all, a wager. Demyx…he wouldn't get involved, unless threatened. He could be dangerous for us, being the opposition to my own abilities…"

"Opposition?"

"He is the water-dancer. My fire is ineffective when he is around to douse the flames."

Oddly, this was beginning to make sense to Roxas. The use of shadows as a weapon, and each creature's striking likeness to an element, could not escape his notice. It made sense that Axel could not combat this 'Demyx', a man of water, when he was so obviously flame. So the principles of element versus element were in effect, even in these strange non-human embodiments of them.

"So…what does it all mean, for us…?" Roxas swallowed hard, finding the action only painful, as there was no moisture to gulp.

Axel remained quiet for a moment, contemplating how to answer the fair-haired human teen, if he had any response to give at all. Then he shrugged, the easy movement of his shoulders drawing Roxas's eye as he slid up to stand. Extending his hand towards the human, he replied simply, "We win the hunt."

'_Easier said than done, I'm sure.'_

Roxas accepted the assistance as he was pulled to his feet, fussily being brushed down by Axel of the clinging clumps of soil. He reminded the fair-haired boy of an over-attentive parent, or an elder brother, with his behaviour. It was almost humorous.

But it was hard to be entertained by anything when his own twin brother was the prey of a creature-hunt.

* * *

"_Little boy, little boy, torn up and cut. Flee for your life and sew your lips shut._"

A creeping mist rolled over the water's crystal surface, whitening the edge of the lake. Slowly, the frost seeped onwards like blood through snow, a disease of cold infecting the lake. The flowers swayed, trembling in feeble protest as their petals stiffened, a thin layer of ice brushing them and killing them at an agonisingly slow rate, clogging around their leaves and squeezing their stems. The temperature was dropping steadily, plummeting to the ground below and percolating into frostbitten grass, the rich soil crusting with rime and creating the beginnings of a wasteland.

"_Little boy, little boy, flighty and free. Locked away in a labyrinth without a key._"

It all went unnoticed by the golden-haired musician, until his own fingers began to fumble and his breath began to freeze. A shiver wracked his body disturbingly and trailed down his bare chest, and the warning bells chimed too late.

The hand upon his neck may have well been clenching his spine, Demyx gasping softly as though burned, though just the opposite was the case. Vexen's grip was so cold it was _painful_, nerves screaming out in protest and anguish.

"Demyx," the musician was wrenched up from the ground, hauled to his feet and spun with a hard shove to face the man of ice. "I believe a word with you is in order…"

He had expected Marluxia, but not Vexen. Indeed, it was harder to say whose ire he feared more, but at the moment, he could safely assume that the frost-maker's could impose more terror. His heavy eyelids were lowered, leaving only a glimmer of darkened ice-green visible, in which Demyx could see his frosted lake reflected. Sharp features jutted out in disdain, sneering sourly.

"A word?" Demyx repeated, only just managing to keep his voice even, as it had been threatening to spill towards higher octaves."With me? Surely, nothing can be gained by talking with _me_, someone of lesser intellectual prowess than yourself – you would be better off seeking Ze – seeking… Lexaeus…"

He bit his tongue as he babbled, blood swirling around his palate. He had almost mentioned Zexion, and the very last thing he wanted to was to have the conversation flow in _his_ direction… it would bode very ill for the water-dancer. Their rivalry where the enigmatic shadow was concerned was heated, despite the cool serenity of Demyx and the harsh cold of Vexen, and provoking him with Zexion's name would be inviting trouble. As if he weren't angered enough.

"No," the icy, analytical blonde cut him off shortly. "I need to speak with you. And you alone."

Something in his throat tightened, constricting ominously and choking him up.

'_He knows…'_

Demyx hadn't held out much hope of his encounter with the human boy being kept a careful secret. Even so, he held firm to his silence on the matter, doing his best to keep his fluid expression free of turbulence.

"What is it you require?"

"Unintelligent as you may be, do _not_ play dumb," Vexen hissed. "I will not have my patience toyed with. Tell me where the human boy went."

"Human boy?" he repeated quizzically. "I don't know what you speak of-…"

The sting of the backhand was accompanied by that of bitter cold.

"You tread on _thin_ ice," Vexen glowered, pungent fury mounting behind his countenance repugnantly. "I know you encountered him, and I know you're trying to hide it. Why you would keep a secret like that so foolishly, I cannot fathom, for I believed that not even you could be this stupid. Now… tell me where he went."

As much as he didn't want to acquiesce to Vexen, it was becoming increasingly difficult not to. He had the advantage over the musician; his watery domain freezing over and giving him continuous chills. He was always so grotesquely weak, against him, and Demyx wasn't conflict-seeking by nature…

His tender cheek was still smarting, and he allowed his fingertips to graze the area. It was burning with lack of sensation, the foundation of frostbite.

"I don't remember where he went," his eyes lowered to the paled forest floor, the gesture unmistakeably passive, taking his trembling fingers away. "Forgive me."

Vexen's expression was anything but forgiving, but he did not strike again. The ice had settled so thickly over the lake's surface that it supported his weight easily, starting out over its glossy surface.

"I have no use for your apologies," he snapped acrimoniously. "I suggest you start trying to remember."

The water-dancer's slender, unmarked hands gently curled into fists, the sensation wrong against his palms.

"Of course…"

"In the meantime, you shall join the hunt."

His eyes snapped open wide, alarmed, and his gave Vexen a look of absolute frantic incredulity. He was sure he couldn't be serious. Demyx rarely strayed from his lake, and certainly for not such a menacing purpose. His home was his lagoon; it was his duty, his _life_ to protect it…

"Join the hunt?" anxiety bubbled in his voice, turmoil shifting under the surface and sweeping away all façade of calm. "Leave the lake…? To track an innocent human – I couldn't possibly - !"

"When the human is found," Vexen spoke over his protests uncaringly, "I expect it to be brought directly to me."

"Him."

Vexen's gaze slowly slid over the frosting forest, locking like steel on Demyx. "Excuse me?"

The musician shifted, feeling somehow uncomfortable in his own skin. "The human is a boy. For you to refer to him as an 'it' is just…"

'_Horrific. As if you don't intend on treating him like a living being.'_

He swallowed the sick in his throat. Knowing Vexen, he probably really didn't… his analytical nature just passing the boy off as 'an experiment'. If that were really the case, and Demyx found him… brought him back to Vexen, like he had been instructed to… he would be handing the boy over to a torturer. He would be condemning him to pain.

No one deserved such treatment, no matter what they were born as…

A strangled yell spun from Demyx's throat. He hadn't even noticed Vexen coming closer, leaving the rink to wrap his fingers tightly over the other's windpipe, rendering him unable to breathe. Apart from the initial choking noise, nothing escaped him anymore – no air, so sound. His lips only parted, wordlessly begging him to let go.

"If you dare attempt to _correct_ me again, I will murder you without remorse."

Demyx lifted his hands, resting them over Vexen's wrist and pulling, trying to tug him off and writhe free. He didn't appear affected; the musician was weakening every moment he was subjected to the cold, every moment he couldn't breathe.

"You will meet my demands," Vexen's eyes narrowed coolly. "You will join the hunt, and you will find the human. You will bring it to me. And I will hear no more of your ridiculousness – is that clear to you?"

He could scarcely nod for the pressure, but he managed it. The musician was sure that with his agreement, with his promise of subservience, he would be released. But he wasn't.

"One last thing," the frost-maker considered, sharpness lingering over his pointedly articulated words. Demyx stilled, unable to tear his eyes away from the absolutely devious look on Vexen's face – he was enjoying his position of power, the musician's obvious desperation to be freed.

"About Zexion…"

'_No – he can't do anything as far as Zexion's concerned… he must know that. It's __**his**__ say; he can't make me do a single thing…'_

"You'll stay away from him. Understood?"

'_No…'_

He wasn't given time to argue, fight back, or struggle. Because before he knew what was happening, his back had met hard ice, and it shattered, jagged pieces cutting and scraping across his unclothed back. Demyx was submerged, falling deep down into the endlessly deep lake, the water unbearably cold and dead. Above him was the barest skeletal stream of pale light, Vexen's face swimming into view as he looked down the hole he'd broken through and created, before disappearing. The water pressure around him increased unbearably as he sank, pressing in from all sides and dragging him deeper down, like an anchor chained around his ankles.

But at least he could breathe.

Slits along the side of his throat opened, lungs operating in a new way as oxygen filtered through. It wasn't much, or even enough, but it could keep Demyx alive until he reached the surface. His eyes shone startlingly.

The water below him stopped contracting, pushing him up instead, while the water above him parted in waves, rippling away from its master. The water-dancer pulled himself up through the hole and onto the ice, with had already begun to thin and crack. He was close to the edge – he had nothing to fear.

Vexen had left, not bothering to see how Demyx would take his last order. Perhaps in was unwise of him, for the flaxen-haired musician's chest was heaving indignantly, feeling unnaturally angered. He wouldn't obey.

'_I've as much right to be around Zexion as he does, if not more… Zexion seeks me out. I may have been forbidden from going to him, but that doesn't mean he will stop coming to me.'_

He reached shakily for his sitar, resting on the edge among the thawing flowers. The blood swirling and dispersing like dye in the lagoon, the proof of the injury along his back. Shallow but serrated lacerations decorated him, some still dripping a pale pink from the crimson being so diluted with lake water.

Demyx paid no heed, warming up his fingers by allowing them to flit across the sitar's strings. Once they fell into a natural tune, he continued singing as though he'd never been interrupted, the only proof anyone had being the blood on his back and the waver in his voice.

"_Little boy, little boy…they're coming for you. Little boy, little boy, I suffer, too._"

* * *

Straight-backed and proud, the thick leather quiver was suspended over Riku's shoulder, the stiff material clacking against the weathered material of the rucksack attached to his back. A flask of water was strapped around his hips, adorned in clothes suitable to travelling and hunting, though no one in the village ever went anywhere. The deep forest green of his hooded cape brought out the green in his piercingly aquamarine eyes, creating the illusion that they were almost viridian, pale silver bangs falling just short. His strong arms adjusted the quiver carefully, stooping to pick up his longbow. He refused to be caught unprepared.

Kairi watched him silently, tears brimming in her eyes, and he couldn't put her at fault. She had already lost one dear friend, and no doubt she was preparing herself to lose the other. Gently, Riku reached up and gently cupped her face with a gloved hand.

"Don't cry," he instructed, as commanding as he was gentle. "You know it's something I must do."

"And what if you lose yourself to the forest, too?" she inquired, voice quivering with the presence of her unshed tears. "What if you don't find him…?"

The village had begun preparing the funerals of both missing sun-boys with much grief, only for Riku to vehemently declare that he would seek them out, himself. He refused to accept that they were dead – if they had merely gotten lost, he would find them. He volunteered to go into the forest.

He had spent the day preparing, and now, nearing nightfall, it was time. The garnet-haired girl was visibly distressed, terrified for him despite his constant assurances and requests to be calm, to be merry, to wait for him.

"I will return in three days," he told her resolutely. "Regardless of whether or not I have found them, I promise you, I will come back."

He'd packed rations, and if he conserved his water, he would never find himself thirsty over the course of those days. Riku could not possibly equip himself anymore – he had to take it in faith that he was ready for whatever he encountered. Reluctantly, realising there was no possible way of talking him out of his mission, Kairi nodded, standing on the tips of her toes to press a platonic kiss to his cheek.

"Best of luck," she whispered ardently. The silver haired young man nodded, embracing her warmly and keeping the contact brief.

"I won't say goodbye," he drew away. "I don't need to. I will see you shortly."

Kairi nodded, watching Riku bow his head towards the villagers who had nosily crowded, trying to watch without looking as though they were prying. His grip tightened on his longbow, knuckles paling bone-white with the bruising force, and he headed away, disappearing between the trees.

And regardless of his reassurances, of his promises that she had no need to feel sadness or dread, the girl began to cry.


	6. Patientia

Disclaimer: I didn't get the rights to Kingdom Hearts for Christmas…so I guess it's back to the drawing board…

Thank you to new reviewers **chocolate-wolfie**, **Flutterby Fx**, **tesnoire**, **Plain Jane Is A Vampire**, and **The Black Angels Red Rose**!

An **important note** – before, I was updating daily…don't expect that anymore, since I don't have the limitless time to write anymore. I'm really sorry, but I'll do my best to keep chapters coming fairly quickly!

Now, to the chapter, without further ado…

* * *

Saïx wasn't like the others.

He was feral, an untamed creature he'd found wandering the woods late upon a full moon, an entirely separate species from what they were. What he was and where he had come from, he hadn't the faintest idea. The images from that night were fresh in his mind at all times though, the beauty of the moonlight catching on the crossed scar on his face and smoothly gliding over pale flesh, white spidery scars running down his back and thighs like fluid. His wild sapphire-hued hair draped loose and free over his strong, bare shoulders, gnarled at the ends and uncared for, nearly hiding his pointed ears from visibility. His golden eyes had glowed with an animalistic gleam, and Saïx had prowled closer to him on all fours, growling. A low, guttural sound, intended to be threatening…but to him, only sensual. He'd never had anything to fear from Saïx – Xemnas had nothing to fear from _anything_ – and that night, he'd willingly broken him. The creature had become his faithful pet.

A pet he may have been, but he was on equal standing as the others of Xemnas's kind. It didn't matter that he wasn't like them. What mattered was his strange bond to the forest's overlord, the strange not-quite-love between them that was really only lust and doting superiority.

That night, after taking him close and firmly establishing his dominance over the feral creature, he'd cared for him, combing the tangles snarled in his hair and washing the crusted blood and dirt from his muscled body. Xemnas had robed him in finery, threads of moonbeams woven into a thick silken robes, fur of various dark hues stitched into a short cape, draped like a stole over his shoulders. He enjoyed furnishing his pet with luxurious things from the forest, heaping gifts and affections in abundance.

His feet were always bare, skin roughened and tough from his previous lifestyle of roaming about, unclothed and uncouth, scrounging and hunting. He'd watched his pet indulge himself, at one time, back before he was taught to walk on all fours. What vicious delight he'd taken in tearing the throat out of innocent venison, the barbaric glee lighting up those yellowed eyes. It was both ghastly and beautiful.

Xemnas had managed to subdue him, however, rein him into a semblance of decorum, moulded him into becoming something more like _them_. Now he walked upright with all the dignity of a prince, head held high in the confidence that he was the beloved of the forest's overlord, and his steady gait smooth and powerful. His muscles seemed to ripple under his taut skin in a smoothly bestial way, betraying his coarse background and unsurpassable strength…yet, it only made Saïx that much more stunning, more regal, more superior. Xemnas almost regretted covering his body for solely that reason.

Yet, at the same time, the overlord was possessive. Saïx was his to view, and his alone.

The sun had sunk away, slinking in retreat of the impending darkness that swallowed the air instead, the palest of glimmering stars beginning to dust the sky in an attempt to break apart the blackness. As much as he enjoyed the dark, he was thankful for that pale light to see by. The moon was waxing towards full circle – only a night or two more, and it would hang low in the sky, entrancing humans and creatures alike with it's light, as pale as water, and it's sheen, unearthly as their own kind.

Saïx lay across his nude chest, peaceful in his slumber and ill-covered, his furs and silks cast off. Their bed was made from low-slung branches interwoven together into a hammock of solid wood, vines curling around and through the branches. They required no blanket, even as cool as the air was. Saïx rested atop his superior, leeching body heat from him, while the man laying over him shielded Xemnas from all elements.

His hand trailed up and down Saïx's spine languidly in a careless massage, the movement oddly weightless. Xemnas's every action was hard to see – slow, purposeful, and deliberate, yet so light that it was impossible to follow one movement to the next. His dark skin, such a contrast to his pet's creamy white, was usually swathed in rich tapestry cloth, every hue ranging from colourless to indistinguishable; his robe was left untied for the time being. Every bit of darkness seemed to give his silver hair – the same sort of colour of the moon's shadow – an odd lustre that so clearly marked him as separate from the earth's elements, as did the dull brightness of his sun-amber eyes. He was everything and nothing at the same time, night and day.

The deep silence was comfortable, enough so that no storm dared to brew and no leaves rustled in movement, for when there was peace, there was always the hidden threat of danger. Those who dared to wake the overlord and his pet were surely risking their lives.

Not all had such a sense of mortality.

A gentle wind picked up around the serene pair, the zephyr catching Saïx's hair and breezing it to drift down over his face. His pointed ears twitched slightly.

"Xaldin," the overlord's voice was deep and languorous; despite any displeasure at having Saïx roused, he was still in a state of calm. His eyes drifted towards the source of the wind, landing on the creator. "What brings you to disturb me?"

Cyclonic eyes swirling between blue and grey remained locked on Xemnas's even as Xaldin glided downwards into a formal bow, seeming unaffected by Saïx's state of undress. Thick dark strands of hair, pulled back up high to allow the tied locks to wave and flutter in every breeze, flared outwards down his back at the descent before he lifted his head. His stature belied the breeziness with which he rose to his feet, large size not weighing him down in the least. His presence was not commanding as a result, even as vastly muscled and tall as he was, but there was a strong aura about him. It was as if behind his calm demeanour was the potential for great destruction, that he could either whip away any who dared get too near or suck them in so that they were powerless.

In his hand was an arrow lightly clenched, and the wind-weaver did _not_ look pleased.

"It is not I that disturbs you," he said, rough voice carrying an oddly hollow whistling quality, like a strong gust rushing past, sweeping the ground and carrying his tone. "It is a human that disturbs the Forest of Veritas."

"A human," Xemnas echoed, tone devoid of emotion. Saïx had gently pushed himself up, one clawed hand splayed across the overlord's chest, tilting his head far back and arching in an almost feline manner, closing his eyes as he stretched. They opened moments later in a lazy manner, glowing lamp-like in the pale moonlight and glaring vehemently at Xaldin.

"Yes," he tossed the arrow, a breeze picking up from nowhere and carrying it to its destination, lying immobile on the ground under Xemnas's bed.

"He carries weapons, which he shot at me. I allowed him not to see me, but catch some of my movement, and he proved himself hostile immediately."

"The hunt," Saïx's voice was perpetually a growl, deep and violent in the downplayed ferocity there. Given his state of exposition and wakefulness, it only lowered more, displeased at the interruption. "Is there not a hunt for that human?"

"I have heard such rumours, but thought very little of them," Xaldin retorted, displeased with the obvious-sounding response. "I would have supposed our forest was more secure than that, to allow a single human to roam freely over our territory."

The veiled insult went ignored by Xemnas, caring little for the insinuation that the forest was not secure. In truth, it wasn't – there was absolutely no barrier to stop anything, or anyone, from venturing past those boundaries. The only thing keeping them out would be self-preservation, for it was apparent that nothing got through the forest and survived.

It had happened only once, and Xemnas did not intend on letting it happen again.

"Can you be relied on to join this hunt?" the overlord's question wasn't so much an inquiry, or even a request, as it was an order. Xaldin bowed immediately with a powerful sweep of his cloak.

"I shall not fail."

"Do not make the mistake of thinking that I am delegating all pressure to you, Xaldin," Xemnas informed him nonchalantly. "Saïx will be participating in this hunt, as well."

At this, the pet's head lifted slightly, staring up at Xemnas's blasé face with a neutral expression of surprise. Even so, there was no surprise or indignation – though perhaps he was reluctant to venture forth without his master, as he'd received no confirmation that Xemnas would be going along with him – and his golden eyes took on a malicious gleam.

His pet did so love hunting.

"Understood," Xaldin remained in his bow, not rising even as the wind picked up, swirling around him in a building hurricane and sweeping him away in a flurry of dust and leaves.

Saïx's voice lost its anger, becoming more of a low purr as he lowered himself on his master's body again. "You wish me to join the hunt?"

"I do."

"And what of you, my superior?" Saïx's eyes slid closed, lips barely grazing Xemnas's chest as he spoke, warm breath caressing his skin. He wished to tempt his master. Provoke him into accompanying him. Saïx had not been alone since he had been subjugated, and had no desire to lose the companionship.

"I will remain here," soothingly, Xemnas's fingers combed through Saïx's hair, petting and stroking in an attempt at placation. "There will be times that I will seek you out. Until this human is found, however, you are my hunter. You will go forth and search."

"And when I find the human?"

Xemnas's eyes narrowed in the softest of sneers. "You, my pet, will do as you please. As long as you find it first, it is your plaything."

A light shudder ran down Saïx's spine in anticipation, bloodlust already swirling to the surface. The tip of his tongue ran over his fangs, and he allowed Xemnas to help him up off the forest-bed, clothing himself while his master watched, unmoving and detached, from where he lay.

When he had finished, he moved back towards Xemnas, not needing an order to know what he required before Saïx bolted away. He tilted his head down in a bow, the overlord sitting up and laying a hand on the back of his pet's strong neck, lightly kissing his forehead in blessing.

"Go."

Saïx slunk away from sight, and a vicious howl tore through the night.

* * *

As inhuman as Xigbar and Luxord both were, it was always hard to tell so at first glance.

With his scars, eye hidden by a black patch, and age-streaked dark hair, Xigbar appeared as mortal as anyone; perhaps, one would muse, he was a veteran of war, or seasoned hunter. He carried himself oddly, professionally, but it wasn't eye-catching. If he were to wander into the clearing where the humans dwelt, he would be accepted.

Until they got a closer look at him.

His hair, black as the night sky and held back in a long, low ponytail, was dusted with white-grey the way stars streaked the sky, like planetary dust forming galaxies. His visible eye was tawny-orange, the colour one might imagine an aging star to be, and the deep scars marring his face and body had no stories to tell behind them. He moved when it was necessary, and seemed to vanish in a strange warp of space before he would even bother taking a single step.

Luxord also appeared strangely aged, the bone-bleach of his blonde hair and goatee giving him a timeless sense to his appearance, eyes a perpetual blank, unreadable blue and several silver hoops pierced through his ears. No one would have looked at him twice, since he was oddly still, his only actions passing like the tick of seconds on a clock. Yet, while he seemed so unmoving, he never stopped, and it would be too late to notice him sneaking up from behind. The secret of his swiftness was unknowable to all.

The two creatures found themselves usually in the other's company, for it seemed that no others could keep up with them, nor did they enjoy their strange pastimes.

Luxord liked to place wagers, gamble on whatever subject he stumbled across, and Xigbar usually found himself desperate for something to occupy himself with. Thus, the two of them, with the occasional addition of Xaldin, placed bets and toyed with elements, and the others of their kind.

Their collaboration to create déjà vu, they continually insisted, was perhaps their finest moment.

Both of them found themselves bored, however, dulled by the monotony of the woodland life and out of ideas. Not even the howl from far further away could pull them from their stupor, nor did the gust that signalled Xaldin's arrival.

"Look at you both," he observed, sounding repugnant. "Don't just lie about like slugs. You appear so undignified."

"What else is there to do?" Xigbar drawled, his voice laden with an indistinguishable accent, coarse and casual yet somehow refined. There was a vast quality to that voice, as though he always had more to say, heavy with meaning that wasn't there and ringing with emptiness.

"And where have you been?" Luxord's voice greeted him next, far more delicate and almost brittle with a different sort of intonation, with the teasing edge that made it seem like he knew things no one else did, not even the all-knowing shadows or all-seeing earth. He sounded always secretive and confident, giving the strong impression of someone whose wits would go unmatched.

Xaldin's expression only soured.

"While you two did nothing, I looked into these 'rumours'," he said purposefully. "The ones of a human invading our forest."

Blank blue and tawny slid over to him, their interest grabbed at last.

"Well?" Luxord prompted.

"They're true. The human shot at me. I have been ordered to join the hunt."

Xigbar sat up, chuckling.

"What a marvellous waste of time that will be. Don't tell me you volunteered yourself for this? You'll have reached a new low."

Xaldin scowled, expression clouding.

"Of course I didn't," he snapped succinctly. "The superior ordered it. Saïx is involved, as well."

"The pet, sent away from his master?" The space-user appeared greatly amused by this information, glancing over at Luxord and silently conveying a spark of shared intent. "I'm sure that went over wonderfully…"

"I did not linger to see," the wind-weaver waved a hand dismissively, as though the words were a pesky draught. "I was focused more on the fact that I'm being forced into such an inane seeking mission, all over one little human…"

"Would a wager sweeten your orders?"

Xaldin glanced over at the time-gambler, whose sly grin was broadening imperceptibly with every passing tick of a second. "A wager?" he ventured cautiously. "Of what stakes?"

"May he who triumphs fall into favour with the overlord."

Xigbar frowned at this. His position already marked him as 'favoured' – which was to say, he had more reign with his power than any of those below him. Luxord caught his displeased expression, understanding immediately and smirking all the more.

"Xigbar would, of course, be gambling with his pride…as well as keeping his position. I would imagine he would be highly perturbed if one of us were to win and steal his position as 'second in command'."

He needed to say no more – the space-user's agreement had been grabbed, and Xaldin's interest had been present from the beginning, clear to Luxord by the fact that he'd asked the stakes before the subject of the bet.

Though really, it was fairly obvious what they would need to do to win.

"So," the wind-weaver mused. "The first to capture the human and bring him to Xemnas…would be the one claiming victory. Is that correct?"

"Indeed it is."

Orders were absolute – Xaldin had already been backed into a corner, unable to deny joining the hunt, now. With nothing to lose, and a position to gain, he saw absolutely no reason to turn away the idea of a game, now. And so, with that knowledge in mind, he nodded his consent.

Xigbar heartily agreed with a low grunt, hoisting himself up to his feet while Luxord did the same. "Every man for himself, I would imagine?"

Luxord flicked a bit of dust from his shoulder, looking as though he were greatly anticipating getting started.

"Who you use and the means in which you use them are free. If you choose to hunt solo, that is your choice…but if you choose to 'delegate', as it were, that's fair game, as well."

"Anything goes," Xaldin supplied, to which the time-gambler grinned broadly.

"Indeed," he approved.

"Does it matter if the human is dead or alive?" Xigbar questioned, raising a single eyebrow smoothly. This prompted a second of hesitation from both of his non-human compatriots.

"Xemnas gave me no specifications," Xaldin shrugged breezily.

"Then it doesn't matter which," Luxord decided affirmably. "The winner will send a signal upon finding the human…after he brings it to Xemnas. For there will be no winner until the human is delivered straight to the overlord. Unfortunate circumstances along the way do not a winner make."

Both Xigbar and Xaldin understood what this meant. They were free to attack others…and each other. Their bets were always taken to such an extreme, for all three detested losing with a childishly petulant passion.

"Are the terms settled?" Luxord inquired, to which all three of them nodded their agreement. He smirked, the beginnings of pre-emptive triumph creeping into his expression. Luxord could taste the boredom ebbing away already.

"Then, may the game begin."


	7. Industria

Disclaimer: Wouldn't you know it…I still don't own anything. It kind of sucks.

My thanks goes out to **MissWasabiLemon** (everyone, go read Ars Musica), **chocolate-wolfie**, **Sister Skye Abella Rei**, **chibi heishi**, and anonymous reviewer **MurdocHasAHeart**!

So now, consider the first seven chapters an extended prologue…the story begins, ladies and gentlemen. Onward!

* * *

Water and shadow had the most fascinating way of melding, smooth and incorporeal over each lacuna but filling it all the same. With one element so free and flowing, and the other so weightless and fleeting, mingling the two to create a shade of dark pale was nothing less than ethereal, beautiful.

The passion was running high, cool adrenaline rushing and crashing in waves throughout Demyx's body, lust and fear mixed together into complete sensitivity and making it difficult to remain standing, pressed firmly against a roughened cavern wall. Regardless of whatever defiance he had wanted to show, having that rule broken felt dangerously different from thinking it.

Yet, he made no attempt to stop Zexion as he lavished ministrations along his bared throat, head tilted back to expose the flesh and allow the all-knowing to worship him with his lips. They ghosted feather-light down the column to his collar, down his chest, seeking areas that were so familiar to him. His hands were already deftly manoeuvring their way down, gliding cloth garments away down silky thighs.

He had barely done anything; he hadn't even begun pulling Demyx up towards the peak of pleasure that he never failed to make him reach…and already, the water-dancer was panting heavily, anticipation and remnants of misgiving affection him deeply, like a shock of colour in a clear pool.

"Zexion…"

It was barely even a gasp. So soft and breakable, yet it spun through the air as if merely obstructed rather than stopping the flow of mumbled words mixed with panting, quiet declarations and a mantra of the other's name. Zexion heard it all, and silenced him with a sweet, clean-tasting kiss.

It was so warm, and so perfect and _pure_. Enough so to mistake it for love.

Demyx's long gold lashes fluttered, forcing his eyes to stay open, the effort of bringing his head down to watch Zexion unnervingly difficult. He needed to speak, to warn him, to prevent this from going any further-…

But that wasn't what he wanted. He wanted the other the way rain needed to fall, or rivers needed to flow. He needed to fall, to flow, for Zexion – _to_ Zexion – and he could hardly care what someone like Vexen thought. The shadow-walker was never his to keep away.

He had always been Demyx's, and he'd given himself completely in return. And that was all he wanted.

Still, their gazes stayed locked, Zexion waiting patiently for the uncertainly to pass before dipping down low, tongue trailing down his chest, catching droplets of water that still lingered on the blonde's torso, lapping delicately and making Demyx moan.

It was the gentle strokes of Zexion's fingers against his cheek that he desired more, though. As good as he could feel, that affectionate gesture was rare…

'_He knows…he knows I was ordered to keep away from him…'_

That explained why he was being so tender, so doting. Why he hadn't gone far yet; the shadow-walker desired something that lasted, that went beyond simple physicality. Demyx was more than willing to give that to him.

He trembled slightly under Zexion's hands, a flush painting his cheeks and eyes sliding closed again. It felt wonderful, allowing all his focus to gravitate towards those hands, and those lips, sending his mind sharply into a daze of pleasurable fog and erasing all he knew. All the dread and hesitations. He was lost, and didn't want to be found.

"Mm…Zex…more…"

Ministrations paused, sliding silkily to a stop, before the shadow-walker complied with his need, the softest of touches brushing his arousal and eliciting a soft whimper. The gentility didn't last long, gripping Demyx and fanning his fingers out down the length, starting to increase the pressure of his stroking and making the blonde moan, the sound low and long.

It was already becoming too much, nerves alight with sensation and the thrill of knowing what the forbidden was like, and his legs were threatening to give out under him. Only the hand lightly grasping his hip was keeping him from collapsing.

Demyx groaned again, the sound nearly broken in heady disappointment, for Zexion had taken his hand away, letting it rest gently down low on his side. The blonde's lips parted, ready to ask for more, to question why he had stopped, when everything melted again and he inhaled unsteadily.

Zexion had taken him into his mouth, tasting him deeply and completely, and it was enough to drive the water-dancer insane. He writhed slightly, trying to move upwards into the moist cavern, only to find that he was still being firmly held where he was. The noise that escaped him was practically a sob of desire.

His nirvana was already so close…

And then it was flooding him with warm, thrilling pleasure, vision turning white behind his closed eyes. Energy left him, replaced fluidly with euphoria…

"Zexion!"

Demyx's breath hitched, catching as his eyes flew open and widened, for the voice had not been his alone. The shadow-walker paused, as well, drawing back. The two had tensed, for fear they had been caught.

"Cover yourself," Zexion instructed quietly, and Demyx hastened to comply, face burning brightly and practically glowing with anxiousness. He had been too lost in the rapture, not knowing whose voice had cut through their moment…

If it was Vexen…

The shadow-walker held a finger against the blonde's lips, an obvious indication of silence, as he silently glided away towards the mouth of the cave. He moved with caution, sharp cerulean locked in the direction of the speaker.

He was displeased greatly at the interruption, but knew it had to have been for good reason. A warning.

Lexaeus was waiting, very still, outside the cave, solid and silent as though he had never been the one to shout. His voice had been short and poignant, as all he said tended to be. His earth-eyes locked with Zexion's, and the shadow-walker could only release a barely audible sigh, as silent as the shadows themselves.

"You endanger him," the earth-shaker did not sound disapproving, or smug, not taking one side or the other. It was only fact, one that Zexion could not deny no matter how he wished he could. He was not the type to argue a debate that he had never had a chance of winning for no gain.

That wouldn't stop him from attempting to defend what he had, however. No matter how lost the cause may have been.

"I do not wish for our…'lives' to be disrupted, due to this foolish hunt," he responded carefully, voice firm in resolve he didn't have and keeping his gaze unwavering. It would have unnerved anyone else, but Lexaeus was the only one who could hold his stare, and as a result nothing passed his set in stone calm.

"Demyx is part of the hunt."

"That makes no difference. It is under Vexen's will that he is part of it, not his own."

"_That_ makes no difference," Lexaeus heaved a weighted sigh, full of sympathy and burden. "Regardless of reasoning, those who join the hunt will not stop for anything. Surely you know where this is all headed."

"I do," Zexion replied, crossing his arms as his fervour ebbed away unwillingly, eyelids drifting closed.

"A war among us will endanger us all, as well as the forest. As well as the humans residing in the clearing."

The shadow-walker fell into conflicted silence, weighing his better judgement against his sense of right, with which his emotions seemed to wholeheartedly agree with. As much as staying out of the entire hunt was, rejecting that part of what his kind tried to kindle…

Demyx…

How could he stand by while he was involved…? Risk simply allowing him to walk the path of danger? He had been doomed the moment the first human had encountered him, shoved headlong into fate.

"There's the distinct possibility of this hunt-turned-war will extend," Lexaeus pressed on. "They are not foolish. Eventually, they will turn on the humans…the destruction of a race is looming. Can you rest with that on your conscience?"

"Humans were never meant to exist in the first place."

Zexion's words were simple, factual, and they both know it to be true. However, the earth-shaker's silence said enough, and he already knew what his answer would be. Regardless of whether or not they were 'supposed to' exist, they _did_. They felt, breathed, lived. Who was he to take that away, to decide such a thing?

He considered attempting the weak argument of the harm they had inflicted on the precious planet, but knew that would make no difference. As much as it hurt Lexaeus, allowing the impending event, the potential Armageddon, to occur was nothing less than monstrous.

They were not monsters. They were the furthest thing from it.

"Well then…What would you suggest we do?"

Lexaeus did not relax at Zexion's inquiry, for the answer was nothing less than a terrible prospect, especially for the two of them. They had so determinedly stayed out of the conflict, but now they really had no choice.

"We join the hunt," the earth-shaker stated solemnly. "We are the only ones who know exactly how many humans are present."

"Seek out the hunter, lead him to the sun-boy, and have Axel turn over his own," Zexion murmured contemplatively. "After that, it will only be a matter of returning them to their village, without inciting the others. This…will not be easy."

"No."

'_But it's all we can do.'_

* * *

The questions were beginning to drive Roxas close to something near insanity. Day and night of searching with no results and no answers – only more mysteries – was perplexing him maddeningly. What was worse, he could scarcely find morsels fit for consumption, picking among the flora with a well-founded fear for berries or dropped fruit, and occasionally grubs. Squeamish as he was, he was being given little alternative.

The fair-haired human had learned to be wary of nearly everything. He couldn't tell what would trigger an unfavourable event, and he didn't want Marluxia to come back. The memory of the Druidic man terrified him.

They all did. The 'lightning-thrower', Larxene…the 'shadow-walker', Zexion…

Only Axel's company was tolerable. Perhaps it was the hypnotising way he moved, or the soothing constant warmth that followed in his presence, but Roxas found that he couldn't take his eyes away from him, and as a result, he'd gotten used to the striking appearance of the impish man. His demeanour was not unpleasant, either – unorthodox, surely, but he wasn't so much a pest as he just was idiosyncratic or eccentric.

The blonde was almost willing to accept him.

But everything about him triggered examination, drove him crazy. What _was_ he? Some kind of imp, as the rose-haired creature had seemed to suggest? Roxas would infer that he was, but how could he be sure of something like that, when he knew so little about the peculiar Forest of Veritas?

And 'the others'…how many were there, exactly? What were they? _Were_ there any others? If so, were they more like Axel…or were they similar to Marluxia, Larxene, and Zexion…?

He hoped he'd met the last of them…but he had a sinking feeling of recalling Axel going over a veritable list of people who might be searching for his missing twin. There were definitely more than that…

Didn't he once say something about a creature of water? His opposition, as a result…what exactly did that make Axel, anyway? They all had those strange titles.

Was Sora safe, with so many of these…things, wandering about? Was he even correct in guessing that there were 'so many'? How many were truly involved in this 'hunt' for him…?

Roxas couldn't be sure which was stronger, anymore, since everything was feeling like a thick fog of dream; his concern for his hunted brother, or his anxious yearning for explanations.

The idea of actually getting up the gall to ask questions about everything, though, was overwhelming. Who was to say he would even answer? What if those answers weren't what he wanted to hear…?

How on earth would he be able to encapsulate all his queries, anyway?

'…_He asks me questions about humans. I think it's only fair. Surely I have time to ask everything I need to…'_

Roxas swallowed a bit, shoving down his nervousness that always seemed to come when addressing the redhead.

"Axel?"

The creature ahead of him paused, twirling back and looking iniquitously questioning, quirking an eyebrow upwards in silent inquiry. Roxas felt something warm stir inside him as he took in his rather wicked appearance, passing it off immediately to the other's flame-like tendencies.

The fair-haired human adjusted his grip on his walking stick, striding up to catch up and walk alongside him. It would be easier to hear his responses that way.

"Can you…tell me about this forest?" he requested, though there was a strict firmness in his voice that all but demanded answers. Axel shrugged easily, obviously not seeing any problems with replying, to Roxas's inward relief.

"What do you wish to know?"

He had to consider this, finding too many questions swirling around his mind all at once, trying to pin one down before it flitted out of reach and he lost it forever. "Why…are you here? Why this forest?"

Axel appeared to need to ponder this. "The Forest of Veritas is sacred ground," he said slowly. "All things originated from here. Every element, you see."

'_Is that true…? Sacred ground, he said…'_

The word 'element' triggered his next question easily, the one that had been pestering him the most. It was impossible not to make the connection, after all. "What exactly are you creatures?"

Offence appeared to have been taken, making Roxas recoil immediately. "Oh, I didn't mean…by 'creatures', I only meant…that's what the people of my village always referred to the ones residing in the forest as. Creatures."

"To be quite frank, _your_ kind are the creatures," Axel corrected him. "We aren't sure how or why you exist. You see, humankind – millennia in the past – formulated seemingly out of nowhere. We still don't understand how they came to be, or why they exist in the first place. Within the time between their unexplained creation right up to now, they have been slowly destroying all we've made, taking advantage of the world's splendours selfishly…"

He didn't sound bitter, or anything like it. Axel only seemed to be stating facts, and that was what unnerved Roxas the most, more questions swimming to the surface of his mind, drifting and waiting to be plucked forth and asked. However, he was still reeling, and couldn't take the opportunity until the cataclysmic storm below those thoughts settled.

Millennia ago – how old _was_ Axel? He hadn't sounded like he had been referencing the past. His voice had held an almost nostalgic quality, as though he could recall such a time as if it were only the other day.

What had he meant, humankind had been created out of nothing…? Unexplainable, as though they were a sort of phenomena, rather than what the entire planet Earth seemed to be _based_ on? Humans – Roxas included – had always simply assumed it existed for them. That humans were what defined the planet, that it revolved for the sake of their species. What Axel had said…it seemed to give that assumption such a hefty lying quality.

What were they, pests? Like an unexpected infestation of locusts over a field, taking over in number and slowly destroying what was never theirs?

Pests like that needed to be eradicated, did they not? Was that the whole reason behind this hunt…? Furthermore, those he had encountered had proven well that they could easily overpower him. Roxas may not have been overly muscled or adept at fighting, but he wasn't weak. Years of labour had kept him fit. So surely, they could have wiped out humans at any time…? Why hadn't they?

He was getting chills, ones that no amount of the Axel's warmth to soothe away.

Lastly…all _they_ had made…as if the creatures…no, not creatures, whatever they were…had some sort of hand in forging the world itself…

His voice burst forth at last.

"What _are_ you?"

There was a desperation to the question, a perplexed frustration shaking his voice unsteadily. It was such a vague way to phrase his confusion, however, that the fair-haired human almost began to worry about Axel asking him to expand on it, clarify his meaning.

He said no such thing, however. He simply answered, seeming to understand his thoughts, his frantic mystification.

"We are gods."


	8. Descent into Superbia

Disclaimer: I have managed to secure the rights to Kingdom Hearts. VICTORY! …Wait, no, that was in a dream I had…never mind…

My thanks goes out to **Serzie**, **kelle611**, **Upstream**, **chibi heishi**, and **Rotzi**! I apologise for the delay, but I only just (finally) managed to get my outline for this story down on paper…or rather, on a screen…AND I have exams…(ugh.)

To let everyone know, the story will be fifteen chapters – sixteen, if you count the epilogue that I may or may not write, depending. So, here's chapter eight for you!

* * *

His focus was set, nigh on edgy in his attentiveness. A slender arrow was knocked in anticipation and held at the ready, bow angled as Riku manoeuvred around the trees, weaving around the thick brushes dangling from the heavy wooden brambles. Everything was very silent, and very still…suspiciously so, considering all the horrific tales centring on the darkened wood.

Not long ago at all did he let an arrow fly at the flash of darkness, a fleeting wind darting past and rustling the dampened-sweet grass. It may have been sheer paranoia to bring it on, and he inwardly slapped himself for it immediately afterwards. What if it had been Sora? Yet there had been no shriek or call, and after waiting unmoving for a good long while, the silver-haired hunter was forced to conclude that his mind had already begun toying with his eyes, playing dastardly tricks to persuade him to leave.

It had only been a single night. There was still time, still hope. He could find the village sun-boys in the time it took for the sun to sink into the horizon no more than two more times. And yet, if his subconscious was already screaming at him to get out…

But Riku had never broken a promise, and he could not afford to begin now…certainly not one of such magnitude. He had told Kairi that he could bring him back. That he was the only one with the ability…but…even more importantly…

Sora was his _everything_. He refused to lose him to the forest, or whatever beasts roamed wild in the thickets.

Guilt-ridden as it made him, he had to confess that finding Roxas was more an afterthought. Truthfully, they had clashed on more than one occasion, usually where the cheery brunette was concerned. Even if that were not the case, though, Sora consumed his thoughts much more, taking precedence above even Riku's own life.

His survival was important to him only so he could ensure _Sora's_ survival…

Still, both boys would be returned to the village. Roxas was a comrade, even if it was unwilling at times, and Sora was important beyond all means of comprehension. Riku's task was set in determined stone, and nothing would deter him. Nothing short of his own death.

Stubborn as he was, though…the hunter was starting to slow in his previously steady gait, from lack of sleep and an unquenched thirst. He would not eat, not yet, for he was anticipating that Sora and Roxas would be in dire need of nourishment. He would conserve all he had.

Drinking was another matter. There were other ways of procuring water from the nature around him, but until he reached that point, he still had his flask. Riku wearily leaned back against the thick trunk of the nearest tree, uncapping the flask and raising it to his dry lips.

The water was lukewarm with a musty taste, lingering from the insides of the hardened leather, but it served its purpose well enough. Riku grimaced slightly nonetheless, feeling as though his tongue had been coated by the remnants of the water he could not swallow.

Hanging the flask back on his hip, he tried to ignore the chill that swept over him, sending a dry shudder up his spine, crawling like an insect up over his flesh. It was unusual, in summer, but Riku passed it off to the approach of the later dawn, the sun already rising into the black-blue sky and lightening the hue. It would warm up.

Yet, the cold only seemed to be steadily seeping deeper inside him, weighing him down strangely. He didn't move, feeling no compulsion to, waiting.

He wasn't sure _what_ he was waiting for.

Light breaths turned to mist, curling up like smoke from his barely parted lips, which were starting to quiver from the growing frost. Cold was choking the air, taking over completely and biting his flesh, ripping at it until his pale skin had been rubbed to flush from the inside. Aquamarine eyes watered unconsciously, trying to make up for the moisture being stripped away from them by the chilling breeze.

It felt as if the very blood in his body was freezing, slowing with the weakening beats of his heart and thickening with ice.

The arrow slipped from his rigid fingers, leaving him unarmed and therefore vulnerable.

And that's when he found out what he had been awaiting.

Flakes of frost swirled from Vexen's slow, studying steps, icing over the grass and plants. Riku remained still, as though he had been frozen, himself, staring at the frost-maker.

This man of ice…this…_thing_…wasn't human. He knew that instantly.

"So," Vexen leaned down, face lowered to Riku's own with his heavily lidded ice-eyes staring straight into brilliant aquamarine. "You are the human from the village…"

'…_What will become of me? …Sora…'_

The cold from the fingers that reached up to graze his face numbed him. Sensation faded away, as did his consciousness, and Riku only knew dread.

* * *

Roxas felt almost dizzy with confusion, needing more answers stemmed from the ones he'd received. It was a baffling notion indeed…

Gods?

Axel struck him to be an imp, as Marluxia had first called him. He supposed that, in his mind, he had pegged the redhead to be one ever since he had first heard the referral. Furthermore, why would gods be _here_, in a simple forest, the one surrounding their village? In this…'Forest of Veritas'?

He had called it 'sacred ground'. That all elements originated from the forest itself…

To the fair-haired human's great relief, Axel was taking it upon himself to speak without prompt. Roxas wasn't even sure which questions to ask anymore, too many racing through his head in no pattern or proper form, tangible or otherwise.

"There are ten of us – the ten elemental gods – and our One Creator. The Superior. Each god made an element that helps form the world to be…well, what it is right now. All you see before you, and all that is elsewhere. The gods created space – that which we move through and live within. Wind, next…then ice…earth, comprised of rock and soil…shadow…flame…"

"You," Roxas supplied, speaking out loud if only to attempt to sort out the facts in his mind.

"Right. The flame-spinner," Axel nodded, offering the name by which he was known. It felt somehow satisfying to Roxas to hear it, as though information was being divulged about _solely_ Axel. It was somehow more personal.

"Then there is water…time…flora, and electricity." Firelight emerald eyes rolled slightly at the mention of the final two.

"Time is an element?" Roxas reiterated quizzically.

"Of course," Axel sounded like he was nearly going to laugh, but withheld, to which Roxas was glad…in a grudging sort of way. It was hardly the human teen's fault that he knew so little about such a strange and unfamiliar world.

Even if that 'world' was all around the place he had called home for so long.

"We reign over our element, and can use it towards whatever means our will bends it," Axel lifted a hand, fire conjuring from the air itself and thinning into a thread of bright heat. Languidly, it twined around his spread fingers, while Roxas watched on with fascination.

It might have been unsettling, but instead it was only strangely beautiful as they wound around slender fingers, never actually touching the skin or even grazing it. The control was perfect, even the licks of flame under such detailed concentration that it avoided catching on to anything at all.

He didn't notice the mild mischief on Axel's face suddenly, as the flame sprung apart from it's thin circle and circled Roxas instead. The human's eyes widened warily, but it didn't even come close to touching him. It went up and swirled around his arm, which cautiously outstretched, before the ends of the wire-flame met and burned itself out.

Roxas felt some mild disappointment – it had been captivating to watch, and oddly thrilling to have it so close…warming him wonderfully, but never burning him. His attention was seized away from the leftover tingling heat when the redhead spoke.

"As you could probably tell, though, then…we never created life. We only have the ten elements, and the Superior only created we, the gods. No humans, not even animals."

Lips angled down into a perplexed and almost upset frown. Learning one's entire species was never meant to exist, after all, wasn't an experience Roxas ever had prepared himself for. It contradicted everything. All he knew, all that he knew to be.

"But then…where did we come from?" The fair-haired human demanded. "That doesn't make any sense. Why are we here?"

"Not even the Superior knows, I believe," the flame-spinner shook his head, mane of fire-ruby hair brushing against his shoulders with the movement. "Most of us don't bother thinking much about it, either. It's not really our problem, they figure."

"Problem?" Roxas's sky eyes narrowed, taken aback with offence. Axel hastened to clarify.

"Not all of us think of humans as a 'problem'. I don't." He said it with such conviction that the human felt almost as if he was equally offended, on their behalf. "The ones like Xigbar do, though…Others – like Vexen – think humans should be picked apart and studied. If you ever see either of those two, space and ice, run away. As fast as possible, until I can come for you."

Unease prickled at his senses, and he nodded obediently. The second – Vexen – sounded worse to him. If he literally meant 'picked apart'…dissected and studied…as if they were just lifeless objects, not worth morality…

Maybe they were mistakes, or not meant to be in the world, but that didn't get rid of the fact that they were there. No one deserved to exterminate them like pests, or observe them like rodents. Value of life was something suddenly heavily weighing on Roxas's mind, so used to thinking in linear patterns and leaving such philosophies alone.

"The one who matters, though, the Superior…well, he's allowed humans to stay around this long. Maybe he's intrigued, or maybe he just doesn't care, but it's only ever his approval that you need."

This 'Superior' puzzled Roxas, as well. If he had only witnessed the powers of the lesser gods, what was their _creator_ capable of? Ten of them made the world, but only one made the gods themselves…surely, he was capable of so much more. What did that make him, then? The founder of the universe? How much of existence was based on him?

Even more frighteningly…what sort of disposition did he have, for Axel to sound so uncertain about his intentions? Was the human race in any danger, or were they protected…?

Roxas supposed he had to take some rare comfort – or at least, rare as of late – in the fact that he was still alive. He was feeling strangely small. While his stature wasn't exactly impressive, either, his very existence was shrinking in his eyes. With so much power around him, proved over and over again that he could die, or be killed, at nearly any given moment…

He shuddered unconsciously.

Axel seemed to take notice of this, though he misread the meaning behind by the action, clearly thinking Roxas to be cold. At least, that was how the fair-haired human rationalised the flame-spinner's next actions.

Hands slid deftly over his shoulder, drawing Roxas in close to the calming warmth radiating from Axel's body. His face was close to the firm chest, wire-strong arms hanging over his shoulders and cradling him the way one might caress or comfort a lover. It was only meant to be soothing, to placate him from trembling again.

Instead, it made him shiver again from the strange thrill that the warmth gave him, like embers prickling under his skin delightfully at his nerves. Roxas felt like he was watching Axel's flames again, coiling and winding snake-like, but this time inside his body instead. Pink flushed his cheeks unconsciously, though for what reason he would be blushing, he could not fathom. It didn't even occur to him as a result.

"Was there anything else you wanted to know?" the flame-spinner questioned softly, bringing to attention for the first time the unusual purring quality to it. Roxas honestly wasn't sure why he was noticing such seemingly random things, about Axel of all people…

Could he even be _called_ a person? Was that somehow disrespectful to bring a…god…onto the level of humans? Onto the level of mistakes?

'_I certainly shouldn't be so close to him…!'_

He knew enough about religion and set aside enough of his scorn for all things without solid evidence to know that someone like him should _not_ be…hugged…by a higher power. A god in the form of a strikingly handsome human male.

Prying himself gently away and regretting it immediately – the air felt oddly chilled and stifling without Axel's body heat, and what if that had been somehow disrespectful? – Roxas shook his head gently. "I…nothing that I can think of, for the time being…"

To his surprise, the flame-spinner laughed. "Now, don't start acting differently. I like the way you are naturally. You don't need to think of yourself any differently in this forest, got it memorised?"

It took Roxas aback that he had managed to pin down the problem behind his thoughts so quickly, as well as darkened his light blush, though it was barely noticeable on his tanned face.

'_He likes the way I am naturally?'_

The fair-haired human had never exactly been commended on his personality before…but then, he was usually so often compared to Sora. No one could outshine his twin in terms of disposition.

Still…even though Axel didn't know Sora, it created a strange swelling flattery in his chest…

Wait. That wasn't right.

"When we first met – you mentioned another human," Roxas spoke suddenly. "Did you see my brother?"

The god of fire looked considering, mulling over the words. "Perhaps I did," he mused. "His scent was similar to yours, I remember, but it was a while ago. Years ago, in time, I believe."

The walking stick clattered to the solid ground below, eyes flying wide open in shaken surprise as a gasp escape parted lips. "My father…"

Axel looked quizzical, clearly not understanding the term while his emerald eyes trained themselves on Roxas's mouth, imitating the shape to repeat what was, to him, a foreign word. "Fah-thur?"

"You met my father," Roxas murmured, sky eyes widened and slightly shot with reminiscent pain. "A father – like your 'Superior', a creator…How…do you know where he went? What became of him? Did he get out of the forest, or…was he…hunted…?"

Slowly, Axel shook his head, comprehension and something else – sympathy, or was it concern? – shining through his features. "I only encountered him once," he confessed. "It was brief. He asked which way was the nearest to water, so I sent him to the water god, Demyx…and I did not see him again."

Wilting slightly, Roxas resignedly accepted the answer, feeling no point in pressing the issue if that had been the entirety of their meeting. Axel had no reason to withhold any information from him, after all…

And the mention of water had made his parched throat constrict, a wave of dizziness stemming from his mind and shaking his body with hunger and thirst. He hadn't eaten, not since he had begun looking for Sora. Had it been two days?

"We will look for nourishment for you," Axel took Roxas's hand gently, wrapping it in flame that didn't burn – his own hand – and lead the fair-haired human to sit down at the base of a thick, leafy tree. "Remain here, and don't move – I will come back to you, once I find things for you to eat or drink. My apologies, I forgot what I was told, about humans needing such things…"

"It's…alright…" Roxas lowered his head slightly, feeling no compulsion to disobey Axel and move. He was comfortable where he was…or at least, as comfortable as he could be. "Thank you."

Curling up into himself when Axel left, for with his leave he seemed to take with him all the warmth, Roxas allowed his eyes drift closed for a split second. He thought better of allowing himself to relax completely, though. He was alone, unguarded, in the Forest of Veritas, the domain of the gods; the ground of the human hunt.

He was barely conscious of the time passing. Roxas paid no heed to the sun's ascension up into the sky, or it's beginning descent to sink into the other side, bidding a drawn-out farewell to the day. From the trees and high leaves, the brightness was stifled anyway, soaked up greedily by plant life. It was certainly the afternoon, though, at least.

Axel had been gone for a while. He supposed that was normal; he'd seen nothing edible in the forest as of yet.

Even with everything taken up by overgrown flora, the space around him was seeming incredibly vast. The longer the seconds stretched on, the further away Axel felt…it was a strange feeling, as though he were the one walking further into the distance.

So much about his life as of late had been nonsensical.

In all the absurdities, though…he hadn't expected the rough grip around his waist, hauling him to his feet and right up off the ground, flung over a strong shoulder. He had been leaning back against a tree, so how was it possible for someone to get behind him, someone of such sturdy stature?

'_Is it Marluxia…?'_

The idea flitted through his mind that the sinister rose-haired god had sprung from the bark, as Roxas had witnessed him do, but the chuckle was too deep. Too hollow, not earthy the way Marluxia's way when he spoke…

"Who would have thought humans would be so easy to catch…"

Roxas began struggling, choking slightly on brittle-dry air, as though it was compact and hard to swallow. His captor – a god, he knew, despite all humanity in his scarred and aged appearance – jostled him carelessly and with far too much purpose, forcing the blonde's head to snap backwards, hitting hard against a solid tree.

He only had one thought in the moment before he fainted.

'_Axel, don't let me die.'_


	9. Descent into Avaritia

Disclaimer: I'm awaiting the rights to Kingdom Hearts, which I ordered on EBay in exchange for my soul. Any day now…

I'm…not thanking anyone this time, simply because I want to thank everybody! I wasn't expecting this story to be as well-received as it has been, so thank you all!

Although, to those who add to favourites or alert…I would appreciate a review? I'm glad you like it enough to add it, but I want feedback so I know if I'm doing things right! Speaking of which, sorry for the wait…I just REALLY SUCK at writing fight scenes.

Oh, and a **warning**…I have a tendency of killing characters…but it should be a relatively happy ending, no matter what happens, okay? Now, to the chapter!

* * *

Regaining consciousness was a struggle in itself. His eyelids felt terribly heavy, weighed down by the throbbing ache in the back of his head and attempting to coax him back into the blissful darkness. There, Roxas felt no pain. There, he didn't have to fret over the feeling of being roughly handled, slung over a shoulder like a limp doll…didn't need to think about being taken from Axel, or looking for Sora…

Choking on air soundlessly, Roxas dragged his sky eyes open at last, vehement in his fight for alertness. The memories came flooding back, crashing over him in dizzyingly petrifying waves.

He had been kidnapped.

The voice of the man was muffled, but he didn't need to hear to know there was an inhuman undertone to it. Silver-streaked hair was pulled back into a low, lashing tail that seemed to sway with a life of it's own. It moved slowly, though, and Roxas had to wonder if it was a trick of his eyes. Increasingly slowly…

And then he felt himself awaken again. That wasn't right.

"Fuckin' time shifting son of a bitch…"

The profanity was clearly audible this time, and while it seemed to Roxas that the forest around them remained unchanged – no, now it was still – wait…had they not just passed that tree…

The space-user was becoming increasingly aggravated, slowed down over and over again, forced into repeating what had just happened seconds ago. Caught in a loop that he could not escape, and had yet to formulate any kind of plan to break free. His only consolation was that his own abilities masked where he was, both in time and in a physical sense. Luxord was grasping at the threads of moments, pulling them back in a desperate attempt.

He was so weak. His tricks and games would only get him so far against one such as him; Xigbar was a warrior, not so high-class as to avoid dirtying his hands.

Unfortunately, he couldn't think quite on the same level…so the best way for him to win would involve overpowering the time-gambler, rather than make an attempt at outwitting.

'_I just need to get out of this fucking continuum before that can happen.'_

At this rate, he would have no chance…this was not a wager he could afford to lose. His pride would not allow it. He shifted the human boy on his back roughly – unless his ears deceived him, he heard a just-there whimper, signalling the consciousness of the boy…

Wait. Maybe he _could_ outwit Luxord after all. He was the one with the power, in more than one sense of the word…he just needed to use what was at his disposal.

Bait.

One hand going over his shoulder and groping at whatever he could get a firm hold on – a mass of blonde spikes, making Roxas attempt to jerk away and cry out in a mixture of shock and, admittedly, indignation – Xigbar heaved the human boy over, slinging him forward and hurling him with as much might as he could summon.

Roxas had never felt anything quite like it before, and he never wished to again. It was like crashing through an incorporeal wall, one of stiff silk, feeling it crack and crumble around him. Like attempting to walk through a sandstorm. Particles of something he couldn't see pinching him, pelting him and trying to tickle his skin with needle-sharp points.

'_What…I don't know what that was…'_

What was worse, it felt as if it had done something to his eyes…for his captor was so close, and unmoving. Frozen in a moment, in midair, caught in a pose as if springing off a tree…

Squinting if only because he, himself, felt immobile, Roxas tried to make out what it was that was so disturbing his eyes. Like he was trying to see through that wall he had just broken through…like it had reformed somehow moments after…

Xigbar _was_ moving…but so slowly…it was like attempting to watch a cloud drift through the thickest of fog and make it through without assimilation.

He couldn't get to him…Roxas was so much faster than that. Why weren't his legs moving?

'_Get up. Axel – find Axel.'_

He was the only one he was able, who he _allowed_ himself, to trust in this strange, sinister forest…filled with gods and kidnapping hunters…

Roxas snapped out of it.

Scrambling backwards, starting to move as far away as he was physically able from his captor, the fair-haired human only managed to push himself halfway up to his feet. It was all he needed; he could still move, still get away. And desperation wasn't granting him that time to sink back down in order to spring up. Movement was what was important.

Before _he_ could move again…faster than what that strange invisible barrier would allow.

It seemed that the thickened stillness had grasped him before that strange god, though; the feeling of immobility snagged onto his legs, seizing with a crushing pressure that forced the rest of him still, as well. Too still to fight it.

Luxord had caught up at last through his dirty play, sauntering past Xigbar leisurely with the surest of mocking smiles on his face. To both of his slowed captives, it appeared he was moving too quickly to properly follow, the very beginnings of shock beginning – slowly – to spread over the blonde human's features.

He _loved_ those reactions.

"Your bad luck to have been created from space, Xigbar." Confidence practically oozed from every pore of his words, bordering on a cackle. "Even space can be conquered by time."

Luxord's pace remained at a steady and relaxed, turning and assessing the target – to think, everyone was so worked up over _that_ little scrap…

He'd neglected to remember the third member of their little wager…as dangerous as having forgotten to merge the barriers around both Xigbar and Roxas.

Wind tore through the impasse, so thick and concentrated it was reminiscent of a blade – a lance or spear, too thick to be an arrow. Luxord cursed impressively under his breath, whipping around promptly and holding out an arm…the one left uninjured, as blood spurted out from his right shoulder.

'_Gods…bleed?'_

Roxas's eyes widened ever-so-slightly, the infinitesimal gesture taking longer than it should have. How could _gods_ bleed…? Surely they were immune to such things…? What purpose did an immortal have for it…?

Then he realised something. He could _move._

Roxas's arms fell forward, catching him before he could collapse on himself. _'Run.'_

The shock had to have been what had released him – Luxord hadn't bothered too much with the barrier around the human boy, thinking him so much weaker than a god. He just hadn't counted on Xaldin…

The god of wind was reacting quicker than Luxord could handle, not having realised he was even there until far too late. Wind had picked up the leaves off the ground, ripping up the grass and shredding it with the sheer speed. Loose soil was creating a tornado, as were rocks of various sizes…

It was too much to see through. Far too much to walk through. And even slowing it down didn't help – it was too thick, speed had nothing to do with it. All the matter was caught in such a heavy whirlwind it was inescapable.

Perfect.

Xaldin easily moved through the rapid gusts as though he were wind himself, picking up the human target by the scruff of his collar, jerking him upwards and hauling him over to carry him – Roxas gasped, choking out a noise of protest as his side fell against the man's broad shoulder painfully, bruising his ribs.

Instinctively he began to flail, ducking into himself in an attempt to keep cover from the harsh and violent winds…but he had to get away, too, which he was at it…

Roughly, one hand reached up and twisted his wrists at angles that made sharp aches run down his entire arm, shaking slightly as though the bone had been snapped into several pieces. His fingers could still move, so he hadn't broken them…

Just _hurt_ him…and did it ever hurt…

They had escaped the cyclonic wind, Roxas's sky-hued eyes flickering back and blinking away the moisture pooling around his lower lashes. He couldn't even see the two from before, not through whatever the wind-weaver had done…

"Infections such as yourself don't deserve so much fuss over you."

Breath catching, Roxas immediately knew it was him being addressed; who else could Xaldin have been speaking to? But more than that obvious bit of information…it was the tone in which he said it. Disappointed and derisive, though the underlying smugness of having outwitted the other two gods was evident.

"And to have the gall to hunt your hunters…I have noted, over the centuries, that humans seem to insist upon being involved in every one of the universe's games. They may or may not succeed, but either way, they think themselves so integral and important…but a game among gods, human? Did you really believe you could keep up?"

'_I don't understand…'_

This man – this god – believed him to be his brother…the human they were hunting? Clearly that had to be so…

But when strong fingers withdrew a slender arrow from his gusty cloak, his confusion only mounted. Roxas's head was spinning – gods wouldn't have a use for arrows, would they? Especially the wind-weaver, who he had seen pierce flesh with woven breezes alone…

However, he had also made the assumptions gods had no use for blood…

"To have shot at a god…that could so easily be construed as a declaration of war," Xaldin mused. "Gods against your infectious species, who do you think will emerge victorious? Did you _wish_ for genocide, human…?"

'_Shot at – a war? He can't mean that…if they were going to destroy us, surely they would have…'_

Sora had no weaponry with him. How could he have shot at the wind-weaver…? More importantly, _would_ he…?

If they were seriously taking it as a battle cry, their village was doomed…he could be a prisoner of war.

Roxas had yet to speak, make any noise that wasn't more than a choking or exhalation. That didn't mean he'd stopped moving, though, if only barely…but apparently, the was too much for Xaldin to tolerate. The arrow's razor tip was placed low at his throat, slowly carving with absolute precision over his collarbone. That elicited a noise at last – dazzling blue eyes slammed shut before more salt water could prick at the surface of his irises, gasping in protest. "Stop…"

"There will be no struggle," Xaldin informed him with a hard bite to his breath. "Between our kind and the humans, nor from _you_. Remain still."

It wasn't as if he was in any position to argue. Roxas's eyes shut further – the scare of a war had been solely to torment him, he understood…

And now this. It wasn't as though he wasn't toughened to pain from all the work he had done back home, but…the wound was deep, and he was unused to anything to evoking there. The flesh there was shockingly receptive to pain…

He hadn't cut at his throat, at least. A small consolation; he would not bleed to death.

Roxas wouldn't die in this place…especially not with Sora still out there…

Hands slid under his side, along the soreness of his ribs and prompting him to bite down on his lower lip to keep utterly quiet. Those weren't Xaldin's hands…

Xigbar had caught up, diving over the wind-weaver's shoulders and grabbing Roxas carelessly as he passed over. As though the flaxen-haired human were a rag doll or the like…his body wasn't used to any kind of rough treatment, not like this, not from others.

Perhaps he was too used to peace.

Xaldin crushed the arrow into dust which promptly blew away, the zephyr turning in on itself and whipping across his adversary's chest. Luxord was still trapped back there, at least…

But Xigbar could rip apart space itself, teleport…he would be far more difficult to handle.

The space-user had thrown Roxas to the ground, dropping him as uncaringly as he'd grabbed him. Too used to the sudden shifts, now, though, the human didn't hesitate any longer to retreat.

Running away was useless right now, not with the both of them still intent on _him_. If they fought, perhaps they would be too distracted…diverted…

He could take his chance then. Until then, he just needed to hide.

They had stopped at an opportune area, at least, the terrain uneven as it steeped down roughly into a jagged hill, leading down to who-knew-where. Roxas hardly cared. Along the precipitous ground, large rocks jutted out…surely one could provide cover.

Rolling to the side, he ducked underneath a large, jagged boulder, the crevice formed only barely enough to cover him from vision…but it would suffice. For now.

He could probably run down to…wherever the hill led. It was practically a canyon, and he dreaded learning what was at the bottom…so much could go wrong, he could spill down and plummet…tear himself apart…

But it was a lot better than dealing with _them_.

Xigbar seemed to be enjoying it within moments, toying with his opponent by vanishing, ducking behind trees and rocks at random…the wind-weaver couldn't keep up, to his obvious ire, the storm whirling around him a sure indication.

Trees were being uprooted, pulled up by the sharp gusts…rocks weathered away, creating thick dust Roxas needed to shield himself from…

Systematically, every hiding place was being destroyed. Taken away so that the space-user couldn't utilise them.

Roxas's heart hardened with cold fear.

Xigbar didn't seem deterred in the least, though, still finding areas to duck behind. The space in front of him was torn open, a flash of streaked black hair waving in the strong wind before he vanished inside the tear. They closed as easily as they opened, and another would open somewhere entirely different…like doors.

It was infuriating to the wind-weaver. _'He's going to just keep dodging me - !'_

He was only half-correct. A hard strike from behind signalled to him exactly where Xigbar had reappeared. In an instant reaction his arm swung backwards, contacting with his opponent's chest – the momentum had only just started him, however, spinning and hitting him hard. Fist contacted with scarred cheek, sending him back into yet another ripped area of space.

Xaldin practically growled, the sound carried by gusts and making them all the more ominous. The loud whistle of the growing cyclone mingled with the angered noise, growing louder to the point of deafening.

Every 'hiding place' was vanishing…the small section of forest was being cleansed of all nature.

Roxas recalled with deepening dread how the god with rose-hued hair had reacted when he had merely snapped a branch – this would not end well in that regard…would he attack, too…?

It didn't feel safe to move. Especially not now. With the winds, and the threat of Marluxia's possible reappearance…Roxas was stiff, curled under the rock, immobile. If he hadn't known otherwise, he may have mused that he was frozen in time again.

Xigbar had tired of their 'game', appearing in the open area that once housed trees. Spreading his arms, he cackled – a hollow sound. "With unfair play such as this, who can tell who will get where?"

"Indeed," Xaldin snarled. "Perhaps if you kept _still_…"

"That's how you want to play?" Xigbar scoffed. "I will give you that instant, then, and see what you do with it. Don't think you can count yourself the winner just yet, Xaldin…"

It was always hard to tell whether or not he was serious. Xaldin didn't give himself the time to contemplate it; if he started moving again, he _would_ win and the wind-weaver knew it. He had to act now, he had to win…

The cyclone halted to make way for the sharpened gust, lance woven of the cruellest winds and aiming right at Xigbar. He didn't care where he was hit, as long as it hindered him too completely…his arms, the area where his heart would have been, his throat…

Xigbar smirked.

The idea that it was a trap only struck him too late…literally so. The lance went straight through the ripped space in front of Xigbar, and where it had reappeared, Xaldin didn't figure out until the tip of the wind started ripping through the back of his skull.

It dissipated before true damage could be done, but Xigbar had accomplished exactly what he had wanted to. Xaldin dropped to his knees, falling unconscious as the breeze around him seemed to still entirely.

'_Victory.'_

Both his competitors were out of the way. All he needed to do now was take the human to Xemnas…

And did he really think hiding from a _god_ would work?

With a triumphant, lopsided smirk, Xigbar began to approach the rock, his footsteps falling soundlessly.

Roxas could still _feel_ it though. The emptiness of his presence looming ever closer, coming up to him.

Running wouldn't work now. He was too close. _'Why…why didn't I flee the second I thought I had the chance…'_

He couldn't breathe…

'_I…have to try.'_

Even if he was close, even if he would likely get caught, he wouldn't just huddle there and cower. Roxas refused to bend to any kind of intimidation, not like this, not after everything that he had observed so far…

Within a moment, though, he was very glad he hadn't moved. The beginning stir of movement was circumvented by the most welcome sight to bless his eyes.

Fire. Sparking on the grass and bursting up, blocking Xigbar from getting any closer, closing over Roxas like a dome.

The space-user's single visible eye narrowed dangerously. But if _his_ expression had darkened, it was nothing compared to the newcomer's…

Axel's was _lethal._


	10. Descent into Luxuria

Disclaimer: My rights to Kingdom Hearts have yet to be delivered. In the meantime, I am holding Roxas hostage.

I…well, thank you all! Everyone who reviews this story, I'm very grateful to you, and I'm still shocked this story is so well-received…

PLEASE, though, if you put my story on alert or favourite it…please review me? I get my hopes up every time I see I have a new message from FFnet and feel all disappointed when I realise it's someone who's reading, but not reviewing. Honest, it only takes a minute at most!

Also, I'd like to know people's opinions…**this is important.** If I were to change names and descriptions, do you think this is publishable?

Now that I'm done begging and prying, on with the chapter…

* * *

The way things were moving, it was nigh on impossible to keep up. Roxas's eyes blurred in the attempt, barely able to see in the first place, everything stained with the flickering dyes of fire.

Axel was harder to keep track of…his lithe, dancing form seemed to meld with the shapes and colours, and with loud bursts of flame, followed by rushing noises of it being snuffed out, confusion was everywhere. With every burning spark flaring to a pyre, Xigbar swallowed it with space, creating a violent combustion that made the fair-haired human jump every time.

The scarred man's one good eye was narrowed, more out of contemplation than seeing him as a real threat. Why would he be one? The flame-spinner was so…insignificant, in the scheme of their forest. Everyone else had such a _balance_ – water could drown, but sustained life. Electricity struck and could kill, but magnetised, created harmony.

Fire only could destroy.

As mindlessly enjoyable as it was to sway back and forth from portal to portal, watching space suck away the embers and being somewhat amused by the huge flares they were creating was getting tiresome. There was only so much of this Xigbar could deal with before it's repetitiveness pulled him along to the end of his interest.

He _was_ curious, though. Axel had been social among their kind, in that he had been so lively, darting from place to place and from god to god, tormenting each in varying ways whenever it struck his fancy. Social in a withdrawn way. Always hiding behind that enigmatic, wide grin…like a clown with a painted-on, perpetually smiling face. Axel had those black drops under his eyes; it was a reasonable enough comparison.

To abandon them for a human's welfare…

Part of Xigbar was simply amused by this fact, musing on reasons why that could have been. Perhaps he had been adopted as a pet; how sweet. Or maybe Axel was humouring the boy before destroying him, himself…the impish god had always revelled in his games, particularly when they ended in something being destroyed.

The multiple tears through space opening left and right were starting to confuse Axel, the fire-haired flame-spinner glancing back and forth between nothingness. Detonations were created at each, but the split second it took to produce the heat was long enough for Xigbar to take advantage of the situation.

Axel was weak, he always had been. Who could defeat something as eternal as space, when embers always eventually flickered and died?

A feral snarl ripped from Axel's lips, curling into an angered expression, when Xigbar appeared right in front of him, smacking him right around and thrusting him up against one of the few remaining trees that still stood tall and proud.

"What are you playing at, Ax?" he questioned, sounding quite entertained, twisting both slender arms backwards until a sickening pop sounded. A ripple of shallow flame sprung in a thin line from both shoulders, running along his arm and down it, flame collecting at his wrist in his left hand. Xigbar followed the movements with his one good eye.

"Tell me…why are _you_," he punctuated this by forcibly grabbing his chin, jerking the redhead's face to look in the human's direction, "guarding a little scrap?"

He didn't answer. It could have been a refusal, or perhaps Axel didn't even know, himself – as blazingly every-changing and temperamental as his element, Axel acted on the impulses derived from deep in his gut, and never questioned himself.

Something that irritated Xigbar. He wanted to _know_, and regardless of whether or not Axel himself knew, he wouldn't accept anything less than a proper answer.

"Speak!"

What Axel did in response was definitely not speaking. The short growl from him was the only noise he was given in response, and then all he could see or inhale was the swarming sea of black, powder exploding into his face.

Ashes. Embers and ashes.

Axel had set the tree aflame from the inside out, the once-sturdy structure of nature bursting into momentary flame and collapsing into still-burning ash, assailing both elementals pinned to it's surface. The difference was, of course, that Axel could see perfectly well – ash came as nothing to him, breathed in as easily as the untainted air itself. He moved through it just as easily, knowing where he was going…with nothing to be held against, now, the redhead was free to jerk forward, turning on his heels and facing Xigbar.

He was still coughing, visible eye streaming. Clearly, he had been blinded, as well…the perfect opportunity, thankfully. It wouldn't last long, but if he could knock him to the ground in time, before he could recover…

There was no possible way of killing him, but if he could knock him out, he and Roxas would be free to run.

Fist curling as hard as cooled lava, Axel threw a punch towards Xigbar, aiming for his scarred cheek. To his lurching shock, however, the space-user caught his fist, thicker and stronger fingers starting to crush his fist, willing the flesh to cave in on bones.

It was a sick feeling, and there may have been another snapping noise. Regardless, Axel didn't look injured, but Roxas still panicked from where he remained, protected by fire.

'_He's being hurt…and he's not even reacting…'_

That couldn't be normal, but more so than his usual bewilderment, Roxas felt panic. Adrenaline-surged concern crackled and sparked with the embers spat into the air from the wall blocking him from the happenings. The fair-haired human almost wanted to just run…tuck and roll through the flames, hope he wouldn't get burned, and plead with Xigbar to leave Axel alone. He really had nothing to do with any of these problems…he was fighting completely selflessly, on _his_ behalf.

It felt so wrong…so much like a sick, twisted exploitation.

Xigbar had begun twisting the fist within his capture, harshly shoving Axel down to the ground, his back meeting the hard ground before he could breathe. The exhalation was loud, the air stunned right out of his lungs.

Axel really shouldn't have approached with such obvious fight in his eyes…Xigbar had no qualms with disposing of him for a time. There was nothing for his conscience to grasp, there…nothing for it to shake and brandish.

A heavy foot stamped down on his ribcage, the redhead grimacing with an implacable sound, Xigbar's single tawny eye narrowing. "Such a nuisance."

It was really a pain to kill another god…every time it happened, someone needed to bring the matter to their overlord, who as very rarely pleased with such a violent reaction to a fellow member of their 'close-knit' group. Apparently, though, he wasn't being given much choice…

Suddenly, he yelped, a familiar sensation crawling up his legs. Axel had gripped his ankle, holding him in place as the searing heat began to lick up the material of his clothed leg. It seemed to be attempting to meld with the space-user's skin, burning agonisingly, setting him aflame…

No, that wouldn't do. If Axel honestly thought that would stop him, he was suffering hopeful delusions in his final moments.

As easily as breathing, the space he was occupying tore open, leg jerking free – or perhaps Axel's hand had jerked back – and diving into the new-open space. Scorching emerald danced, the redhead letting the flames fall around Roxas.

He could work with this…easily…

Every new rip that opened combusted within an instant, Axel's flames already producing themselves from nothing, pre-emptively setting any stirring of air aflame. He had to keep cutting him off…keeping him stuck between spaces.

This was probably the only chance they would get. It had to be now.

"Roxas, _run!_"

The fair-haired human's arms gave out on him, collapsing right onto his back with a painful grunt. Maybe his spine was bruised, now, too…it would just figure.

But wait…he was free to run.

'_Axel…can I actually just…leave him here?'_

From all he'd seen, Xigbar wasn't an opponent that he could actually handle. He was in over his head, all over _him_…how could he run with that on his conscience? If he got hurt…

What if he died? Could gods really be harmed to that extent?

If he hadn't already seen gods pass out, and bleed…he would have assumed to the contrary, but after all he'd seen -…

It almost seemed to be becoming harder and harder to believe. Roxas could accept it, now, that Axel and all these people weren't human. The concept of gods was still so difficult to grasp…to think that he had immediately accepted it before.

Maybe he had just been desperate for answers.

'_Please, Axel, don't you dare die…not for me.'_

Clambering to his feet, graceless as though both legs were numb, Roxas pushed himself off the boulder, forcing the momentum. If he lingered, Axel may have to keep holding Xigbar off, and who knew how much longer he could keep it going? The echoing bangs from fire erupting and being sucked away followed him, ringing in his sensitive ears, pricked in dread…listening for Axel's voice…

His insides felt cold. Had his heart frozen over? He entire time he'd been sitting there, watching wide-eyed, he had been able to hear his heart pounding in his chest. Now, nothing…his breaths coming in short gasps, the quiet snaps and crunches as his feet pounded down flora, grass, and moss littering the staggered ground…

No heartbeat. No sound of Axel…not even the sounds of bangs and whirling flames anymore…

'_Please…'_

What would he do if he were alone here…? How was he supposed to find his way out? Find Sora? What would he do if he was absorbed into this 'hunt'…?

Would he be the hunter, or the hunted…?

Not even the selfishness of his thoughts could make the dread go away. _What would he do without Axel?_

"Roxas!"

His sore feet didn't meet ground, and the cold inside him warmed. Only Axel's presence produced the kind of heat needed to unfreeze him…

He didn't appear any worse for wear, hoisting the blonde human boy up into his arms. Draped across them like a bride, there wasn't the carelessness the other gods had picked him up and thrown him around with…Axel held him protectively, careful as though Roxas were breakable.

It was such a relief.

"The man -…"

"Xigbar isn't chasing us," Axel interrupted, already knowing where his question had been headed. "I couldn't knock him out, but you got pretty far…and the forest had started to retaliate, so he's fighting that off right now…"

"Marluxia…"

"He isn't there." Again, Axel seemed to understand what he was asking before the blonde could even spit out the question, for which he was grateful. Even more so, he was glad the rose-haired god wasn't close by. "The forest has some will of it's own – Marluxia geared it to protect itself. Especially from me," Axel's wide grin flashed, putting a fine crack in the severity of what had just occurred. "He isn't fond of fire."

Regardless of the tension being infinitesimally broken, the thought had wormed it's way into his brain.

'_I could have been killed, couldn't I.'_

Axel had just saved his life. That was striking him as harshly as though he had been whipped, cutting deeper than the tip of the arrow that had carved into his collarbone…

Gently, he was set down, the redhead's grin not fading in cheer. He seemed like an entirely different person, the resemblance between him of now and the one deadly with anger distant. Roxas recognised where they were; he wouldn't have, had not spent hours waiting for Axel's return, just to be kidnapped…but they were in the exact place that Roxas had been stolen from.

Familiarity was a relief. He wilted back against the thick tree trunk, feeling safer than he would have if his back was at air. Even the slightest space had been exploited before, he'd seen…

"Here. Eat."

In the excitement, he'd forgotten his hunger…but seeing what the redhead had gathered made him ravenous. Berries – which he carefully inspected first; Axel didn't seem to know the difference between what was poisonous to his system and what wasn't, being so uninformed to the physiology of humans – and other fruits…

Roxas didn't hesitate. He reached out, ignoring the sharp sting that came from his wound, and dug his teeth into whatever his hand reached first.

Emerald eyes were intent on him, and without warning Axel reached out, ripping the edges of Roxas's white shirt. The blonde choked, trying to protest through a full mouth, but paused in his incoherency as the redhead began dabbing the blood away.

"Are you harmed anywhere else?"

The display of concern made him redden slightly, choking down the overlarge morsel preventing speech. "I…not really…just a bit sore."

A noncommittal but no less concerned sound emanated from Axel, thin brows drawn together as he continued to clean away the garnet, viscous liquid pooling around the sliced skin. Roxas almost felt more heat rush to his cheeks, unsure of what to make of this.

First he rescued him, now to take care of him…Roxas had guessed before that he was more of a game to Axel than anything, but clearly, that wasn't quite it. What his motives were, he couldn't fathom, but…to see him so…concentrated and, well…

He was _remarkable._ Gentle and warm after a battle where he had been so blazing and rough…

Roxas continued to eat, slowing down and keeping still, as Axel continued his soothing ministrations.

Maybe Axel was…impressive.

Perhaps.

* * *

Every limb was so numb that the pain wasn't registering…but it was there. Frozen and shivering, flesh pricked with sensitivity to the cold…it was terrible, and making him sick. There was a retching sound, but it didn't make it past the back of his throat…

Riku's eyelids were too heavy to drag open. He didn't want to, the lethargy in him slowing down his pulse, making the blood pumping through veins thicker, like tar attempting to circulate through his body.

Maybe it was the lethargy, or maybe it was the cold.

"No, not the proper reaction at all…perhaps a test of it's blood…"

The cold-sour tone of the voice forced his eyes to open. It was him – the blonde man, the one who carried frost in the air around him – with tools of glass in his hand.

'_Are they glass…? Or…are they ice…?'_

He was forming another long cylinder of ice, whittling it away to a razor-like point, curling parts of it…forming something almost akin to a screw, setting it nonchalantly onto the flat, iced-over rock he was using as a table. They had to be in a cave, of some sort, the dry atmosphere seeming all that much colder.

"Vexen."

The voice caressed Riku's ears, like something comforting and terrible at the same time, and darkened aquamarine eyes glanced towards the newcomer…no, newcomers. Zexion walked just in front of Lexaeus, the earth-shaker taking his place next to the silver-haired hunter.

It was then that he realised he was shackled. It was no wonder that his hands ached with nothingness…his wrists were bound by ice.

"Zexion," something calmed in his tone, becoming breezy and almost…pleased. "A pleasure as always…"

Slender fingers removed the long column of ice from Vexen's hand, Zexion's cerulean gaze lowering to it. Slowly, they ran down, no heat from his hand melting it, and try as he might to not be distracted by the movement…ice-green eyes remained trained on every movement.

So easy to imagine them elsewhere…what stirred in his abdomen was not heat, just thrill.

"What do you plan to do to it?" Zexion inquired delicately, the tips of his fingers curling around the ice column. "The human."

Right, the human…

Of course, Zexion would only be there to speak about such things. Lexaeus went more or less ignored, Vexen entirely caught on the way Zexion's hands were moving. "I was planning on testing reactions before carving it…seeing what makes up it's insides, perhaps test it's body's reactions _inside_, in places I can't see…"

Vexen's tone was kept casual, deliberately smooth like a snowfall that had yet to be disturbed. At last, the ice in Zexion's pale hands was starting to become slick, wet…melting just slightly…

"A shame, I have nothing to experiment with," Zexion's tone was lamenting, sultry…Vexen swallowed slightly.

_Experimenting._

The fact that everything was deliberate hadn't occurred to Vexen's distracted mind – eyes intent on hands, and lips forming suggestive words…he didn't think to look around.

Riku stared at Lexaeus as he soundlessly pried away the ice as easily as though it were cloth, the cave wall behind him crumbling away without the slightest noise. Earth-eyes met aquamarine, wordlessly urging him to slip out, away through the makeshift entrance. He would put the wall together once Riku was out…but they needed him to be free.

"I've been curious as to how specimens may react encased with my element…inside shadow."

Riku glanced at Vexen's back, the frost-laden god sliding closer to Zexion, looming over him…Zexion's hand hadn't stopped, the column of ice melting in his pale hands, moving faster…

The silver-haired hunter glanced at Lexaeus briefly, and practically collapsed away from the inside of the cave, stumbling outside and gasping for air. Lexaeus didn't waste any time rebuilding the rocky walls. Within seconds, he was back to unassuming stillness, watching Vexen move closer to Zexion.

His breath was visible, white wisps escaping slowly parting, pallid lips, and they slowly seemed to be nearing Zexion's. One hand carefully brushed away the silken curtain of slate, usually clear ice-green clouding when the shadowy Oracle raised fingers to his lips, licking the water away…

"I prefer ice melted…"

Immediately, Vexen pulled back, eyes narrowing. The implication was obvious, and the slight curl up Zexion's lips confirmed it. Teasing him and informing him, cruelly, just where his affections lay as his tongue swirled around the water coating his fingers. The ice column had melted away into almost nothing, now.

The tongue that treated Demyx.

Demyx…that accursed water-based musician…

'_He becomes more of a hindrance to me all the time.'_

With a darkened sweep of a cloak, Zexion beckoned to Lexaeus, the two of them sauntering out from the cave. Experiments momentarily forgotten, he leaned back against the wall, swearing profusely under his breath.

It was moments later that he realised the warm body of the human, once firmly strapped to the wall, was gone.


	11. Descent into Invidia

Disclaimer: I own Kingdom Hearts about as much as I owned it last chapter. Which is to say…not at all…but I'll be damned if I don't get them! Then it'll be 'Welcome to the World of R Rated Disney…'

Thanks to all who reviewed, and more so those who gave me their opinion on my story as a publishable work! With everyone around me nagging at me to 'finally get myself published', I may just do it…

Despite all the inevitable controversy. Oh well, I thrive on it. Just **another question** – if I were to re-title the story, then, does anyone have any suggestions on what to call it?

To the chapter…

* * *

Part of the legends was true. Sora had seen no creatures, no monsters or unearthly beasts lusting after his flesh and blood…but after stumbling past the thicket of plant life that stretched on forever, the brunette boy scratched up and torn, he discovered with apprehension what lay beyond it.

Nothingness. The sun was blotted out by leafy tree tops, too high up to see, forcing what little sunlight there was to struggle past the impossibly thick leaves. As a result, the skeletal beams were few and far between, lighting up an otherwise endless plain of darkness. The smooth dead ground was punctuated by large, solid trunks, reaching up miles high past the clouds themselves…the mist hanging in the air could only be attributed to such.

Shadows clogging sight like a blindfold, the smell of earth filling lungs like water, and every footstep or breeze vibrating off every tree, coming from all sides…

Sora shivered, clutching at his loose shirt and pulling it around his aching torso. He was so cold, and so hungry…but those paled in comparison to the way his chest was hurting, the pounding thrum of his heart like the incessant and too-loud beat of a drum. A constant thunder.

There was nothing to stumble on now, at least. Nothing for him to trip over and fall, except for his own feet. He was in a far worse state than he had been, russet spikes limp and hanging around his marred face. Branches had scratched at him, leaving faint lines across his cheeks and forehead. Grubby clothes were torn at every hem – not even his work clothes were accustomed to such an environment – and sky-eyes were a bit wild with desperation.

It had been such a mistake to come here…his mind sharpened it's focus onto those he had left behind. How was Roxas faring? No doubt he would have guessed he was dead by now…his brother would have guessed at his venture into the forest, no doubt, but the chances of his survival were slim to none. If he could have, Sora would have somehow screamed to the heavens, hoping his voice would carry…

His throat was too dry and scratched, now, and where he was…no sound would escape the canopy blocking out the sky.

Roxas would be alone…

Kairi…

…Riku…

One hand grasped at the smooth bark of the nearest tree trunk, forcing himself to stay upright. He had come here for a reason, and thinking it over…it was a worthy reason. It was something he needed to do…even if he died in this place, it would have been better than remaining back there, his destiny limited…

Maybe it was selfish, but if he could make it…it would all become worth it. One day, Roxas would understand…

With as flat as the ground's surface was, every single sound spread easily over the ground…and thus, at the delicate flow of notes, so familiar, made Sora stop where he was, starting to cough almost hysterically out of hope. He'd meant to laugh…to speak…

The notes stopped, obviously reacting to the noise.

'_Find me, please find me!'_ Sora's mind screamed, begging. _'Help me get out of here…please…'_

It had to be that man from before, the one by the water's edge…but even as hopeful as he was, he only allowed himself some relief when ochre hair, shine dulled from lack of light, and a sapphire sitar strapped to his unclothed back. Though, while Sora wilted, Demyx stiffened.

The poor human boy…only poorer for encountering one of his hunters…

Even so, knowing how unfortunate the boy was, Demyx could feel no real pity, too steeped in his own misery. He felt deprived, having gone for so long without Zexion's presence…Vexen had to be keeping them apart, he was sure, and the pain of that separation was unbearable.

He missed his touch…his voice…

Shoving back the potential sob welling up in his throat, he cupped Sora's face and raised his chin to look at him. "You look so harmed," Demyx's voice wilted even further, utterly miserable. "Sit…"

Even sadness could not stifle his nature, it seemed. Sora slid down with his assistance, leaning back against the tree trunk as though his body was far more weighted by his travels. Joining his hands and locking fingers into place, he filled his hands with cool, clean water, holding them close to the brunette human's lips.

There was no time to think about the oddity – Sora drank, and the water never seemed to run dry, as though the musician's hands produced the liquid themselves…an endless well. His parched throat felt some relief at last, a wave of nausea being pressed down into his stomach. He refused to spit it up, not when it came as such a relief.

"You must have been dying," Demyx murmured. "Poor creature."

Gasping for air – he'd disregarded the need to breathe the entire time he had immersed himself in drink – Sora tilted his head back, resting it against the bark. "Yes," he panted slightly. "Thank you…"

Nodding slightly, Demyx scattered the rest of the water across the compact dirt, dampening it slightly. It only served to sadden him more…nothing would grow from it. The trees leeched away all moisture, deep down in the ground…

Everything seemed so disgustingly wrong as of late. Vexen was entirely to blame.

Demyx's hands curled into fists – it felt so unusual, not right in the least – and he tried not to seethe, oceanic eyes transfixed on his possible revenge. The frost-maker wanted the human boy…

Well, he wouldn't obey. He refused to bring Sora to the god who would cause him extraordinary pain, make him suffer just for being born. He was human, yes, but he was still _living._ He was so much more than just something that wasn't meant to be there; he could clearly feel just as much as Demyx did.

"Listen…are you lost?"

Sora nodded unhappily, pushing himself unsteadily to his feet with the water-dancer's aid. "Alright…I'll assist you," he murmured decisively. "I'll take you to your village -…"

"_No!_"

Demyx was startled, nearly shoving the human boy away at the vehement exclamation. Sora was looking desperate, near-panicked – it was as though the musical god had threatened to do just the opposite, leave him stranded among the dark trunk-littered plains to die and eventually rot away.

Maybe humans were just strange…or maybe there was a real reason for him being _here_. Sora had made it further into the forest than anyone – not even the gods often roamed in the darker area of the woods. There was nothing there for him.

No Zexion, or Vexen – that was why Demyx had been hiding there, in hopes of avoiding the hunt…and not steering either his dear shadow-walker or himself onto harm's path. He didn't think the elder god would ever dare hurt Zexion…not when he lusted after his body just as it was, unmarred…

He needed to shake himself out of his depressed stupor. "You need to get out of this place, it isn't safe," Demyx sounded a bit more insistent. "You are being _hunted._"

The brunette might have been about to express his dissent further, fraught with the possibility that he would be forced to leave, but it all came to a halt at the word 'hunted'. "…I…don't understand…"

Hoisting him up further, keeping him as steady as was physically possible for the musical god, he licked his lips in anxiety. "My kind are the hunters," he began to elucidate, struggling with his wording. "When you came into our forest…you breached scared ground. Surely you must know…you're not supposed to be here…"

"I don't have a choice."

Whether Sora meant that he didn't have a choice but to be in the forest itself, or into existence…Demyx wasn't sure. He had no awareness that humans thought they were the centre of all things, that they assumed it was natural for them to inhabit the planet that they were slowly destroying. In his lack of comprehension, Demyx thought he meant the latter.

Perhaps, then…if Sora knew the secret to the humans' existence…maybe that could save them.

"Why are you here?" he inquired softly, grip unconsciously tightening and knuckles bleaching white. He hoped…

"Love."

His response was simple, sapphire eyes downcast at the bleak ground, and Demyx tried to process his answer. Humans…could they exist on love?

It was absurd…

Any further speculation or thoughts were harshly cut away. The creak and soft, whistling groans of bark and wood twisting was horrifying, reminding the water-dancer of exactly why he hated this area of the forest. Anyone could hear _anything_, along this ground…nothing was safe from the trees to hear, no matter where one travelled.

The crack of thunder, as well, made a shiver run up and down Demyx's back, like something had run like prickles of electricity right up and down his spine. Anyone but her…

Two sneering faces stared him down, and his grip on Sora tightened defensively. Larxene giggled, apparently noticing this, half-hanging luxuriously over Marluxia's arms and chest.

"Hello, little brother."

* * *

It was lucky Riku was a patient young man, or else his aggravation may have become too much. Glancing back over his shoulder at his two guides, the hunter sighed in utter disbelief, as neither seemed to be doing a thing.

Zexion had proposed they join searches. It hadn't taken much to convince Riku that they were inhuman – he'd heard enough of the fables back home to have a healthy amount of consciousness about the life of the forest, and the occurrences with Vexen had quite effectively proven to him that they surpassed the mere title of 'creature'.

Things weren't moving quickly enough, however, and it was beginning to tax Riku's nerves. Tension ran sorely along his shoulders, bow and arrow almost always at the ready, as he whirled around the face the other two. Lexaeus almost appeared to be meditating, the shadow-walker remaining silent and watching his larger compatriot.

If Riku were less wise, he would have said something, snapped furiously and insisted childishly that they stop whatever they were playing at. He needed to find Sora…

He wanted him out of this insane place. He wanted to get out, himself.

Whatever they were waiting around for just wasn't coming, either…he was moments away from giving up and starting to trudge away, kick aside some of the overgrown foliage out of utter spite. Riku had to wonder exactly how they would react, if they would at all.

From what he had seen of the two, he didn't really think it was altogether likely.

At long last, Lexaeus rose to his feet – Riku could almost hear the strain of his rock-solid muscles, unhappily heaving a sigh as they were forced from their stiffness – and Zexion swept just forward. His finger twitched over the arrow.

"Well?"

"He has gone too far in," the earth-shaker spoke slowly. "Past the thick of the wood."

"While this part of the forest is as you see – the part flourishing with life, maybe even too much of it – further in there are only very high trees and flat ground," Zexion explained, silky voice gentle as though his mind were elsewhere. The hunter almost shivered a bit; he knew true cold now, so it was certainly from no chill, but the mystic quality ringing in his ears.

It obviously wasn't possible for him to have chosen stranger travelling companions…

"Sora has gotten past the life, into the emptiness…" Visible cerulean eye travelled further off, staring into a distance that aquamarine couldn't reach. "It isn't too far from here. We should be there quickly."

A short breath of air escaped through the smallest slip between Riku's lips. "Excellent…"

Perhaps this meant that he really was unharmed. Riku could even settle for a scratch or two, or a few bruises…as long as Sora was _okay_. If he could be kept safe…

He would be sure not to let him out of his sight again. Not if he could ever stray back amongst the terrible dangers of the forest.

"When we find him, we shall bring both of you straight back to your village," Zexion said firmly, though instantly Riku was attempting to protest; Sora couldn't be happy with his brother still somewhere in here. The shadow-walker continued sternly, though. "I have a grasp on the other human's location, and will return him to your village soon after. A fellow is keeping him safe, so you've nothing to fear on his behalf."

"What manner of fellow?" Riku replied cautiously.

"A protective one."

Maddeningly vague as he was, he had already come to realise that whatever answers he was given were final. All he knew would be limited to what they would tell him, as unhelpful as it all was…or at least, seemed to be.

'_And he's supposed to be an Oracle of some sort, they said…?'_

It didn't seem to Riku like he knew so deeply. They could have found Sora by now if that were true, no doubt…

Turning from the silver-haired hunter to Lexaeus, Zexion tilted his head very slightly to one side, curtain of slate falling further across his face. Stony features were grim, somehow, alert, and one hard hand came down to rest on his friend's shoulder.

Clearly, there was something going on – Riku could tell, not having to be in on their minute fellowship to draw forth the proper conclusions. Was someone – some_thing_, rather, he couldn't think of them as real beings – approaching…?

"He's coming quickly," the largest of the pair murmured, thick voice laced with concern. "In a straight line…"

Zexion seemed to tense very slightly, sighing like a shadow flitting over the ground. "That means…he knows we're here. He must be after him…"

Just that was enough to set off warning bells in the hunter's head, alarm forcing his spry muscles to coil in readiness. "Who is after me?"

Both glanced over at Riku, and he was filled with the dread that it could be Vexen. The god of ice didn't seem quick, to him – they had said the incoming approach was from someone moving speedily – but the idea that it was someone else instead…

He didn't like that possibility. That would mean other people knew about his presence in the Forest of Veritas…and likely wanted him out, just as badly as Zexion and Lexaeus seemed to want to. The difference was, they were willing to be peaceful about it, even help him…

Neither seemed to have any intention of telling him a thing, Lexaeus suddenly picking up Riku and heaving him over his shoulder, Zexion sliding around them as the two of them broke into a run. The silver-haired human was going to protest, loudly – how dare they lay a hand on him, run with him!

However…he saw _it_, then. Aquamarine eyes widening slightly, his mind easily leapt to the obvious conclusion. There was no way the thing could be human…but there was no way he was like _them_, either. Unlike Lexaeus and Zexion, who seemed so intent on running – likely for the boundaries of the thick trees and flora, making their way as quickly as possible to retrieve Sora…to end their mission, to rescue them both…

Was what they really needed rescuing from…this thing…?

Sapphire blue splayed out against air and caught every faint glimmer of light, tangling and writhing with a life of it's own, like brightly jewelled serpents. Lengthened canines, like fangs, snarled and ripped at wind; muscles rippled smoothly under scarred flesh pulled taut over his body, and the sheer _speed_ at which Saïx ran at, down on all fours, was enough to make the rose-tint of Riku's already-porcelain face drain to completely white.

What was the worst, though, was the blood. The reddened saliva dripping from those canines, garnet-flushed lips pulled back into a sneer, staining him…it wasn't just limited to his mouth, fingertips reddened by the viscous liquid that definitely wasn't his own. Perhaps too dark to be a human's…an animal's, then…?

It made Riku's stomach lurch. Whatever he had been feeding on, ripping apart, he obviously had been utterly vicious about it…he was a hunter, and thus he saw the beauty in a quick kill.

This creature obviously wasn't a man of such aesthetics.

From the way Saïx's eyes were sparking with wild desire and malicious intention, Riku could grasp with ease whose blood he wished to coat his teeth in next.

* * *

No amount of fruit could give him the water he was craving, despite their juices and rich tastes. Roxas desperately needed to drink, and the point he had reached was so far past desperation he was ready to beg Axel for a stop, for them to take pause just long enough for him to sustain himself…

The problem being, there was nothing _for_ him to drink. Any moisture was greedily sapped by the excessive plant life, and it left nothing for the parched human boy to make do with. Not even the dew clinging to the leaves were worth the risk, for even grazing a flower petal or stepping on a bent leaf were enough to send images of Marluxia into his mind, emerging from the twisting bark of the nearest tree, wearing a sneer of dark promise…

"Roxas?"

He was summoned from his daze by the fiery of the pair, Axel's bright emerald eyes searching his expression and demeanour with apparent concern. The warm worry just brought more of his attention to the dryness of his throat, and he dreaded speaking for fear his voice may only escape him as a rasp.

"Sorry," his eyes averted, feeling terribly weak. Axel, as a god, surely wouldn't know about thirst…and after being able to confess to himself that he was an impressive figure, Roxas was feeling quite like a damsel in comparison.

What could possibly be next? Swooning in Axel's arms?

"I'm very thirsty," the blonde kept his gaze cast at the ground, feeling a curious heat rising to his cheeks – perhaps from the imagery of his previous thought, or the embarrassment of admitting to his human vice. "Is there any place we can stop for a little while…?"

Axel frowned, lifting his head slightly – it took Roxas a moment to notice his nostrils flaring, and realising he was catching scents in the air. So incredibly strange, indeed…

"I smell the water nearby," the redhead informed him, a touch of eagerness to his voice that gave the impression that he was almost glad to halt and linger. Roxas wondered if that meant he was tiring, as well, but found that immensely unlikely. The fire-like man seemed to have endless energy, as if he produced it, himself…the way true fire did.

"How far?"

"It will only take a moment," he assured Roxas, but the statement struck him as strange…

Until he found himself very literally swept off his feet, being cradled like a child in the arms of a caregiver. The redness dappling his cheeks deepened in utter indignation – perhaps he did not possess Axel's strength or agility, but he was by no means helpless!

If only he could bring himself to protest – the heat was comfortable and encompassing, and it felt wonderful for his sore feet to no longer be thudding against the flora-toughened ground. Weary muscles relaxed, even as something deep in his chest constricted in the most marvellous way, tensing.

Sky-hued eyes directed themselves up, studying the new angle of Axel's face – smooth point of his jaw leading back to the mane of crimson, which swayed with a life of it's own as he moved…jewel-bright eyes over his sharp nose, slightly upturned in the character of an imp…

It was odd, how every feature clashed, yet drew his face into almost a magnetic work of art at the same time…one alone may have been unattractive, but together, Axel was striking.

Why were such thoughts invading Roxas's mind…? Was it their proximity? The warmth? Or perhaps he was just feeling light-headed from all the excitement and lack of water. It was far past due for all the overwhelming information to catch up to him.

Still, he felt a sense of loss when Axel set him down, sliding away his arms and propping him upright, gently easing him forward like a prompt. Roxas was glad to follow the wordless instruction – he had never seen a more enrapturing sight.

Water, crystal clear with no end – the deeper down it seemed to flow, the deeper the crystal hue became until it appeared bottomless. How it could be so utterly clear of hue, Roxas didn't know – such still water ought to be stagnant. Nothing flowed in, and nothing could flow out.

Beautiful dead water.

"Drink?"

Axel sounded puzzled, undoubtedly wondering why Roxas was simply staring at the clear lake, rather than moving forward and drinking his fill. Indeed, upon hearing the warm voice speak, the blonde young man wondered that, himself.

Dropping down to already-scratched knees, he cupped his hands through the liquid silk, marvelling at the soft quality to the cool, clean liquid, and raised it to his lips; hastily, he couldn't let it slip through his interlocked fingers.

The moment the water slid past lips, however, he choked. It felt as if everything in his mind had churned to a halt and reversed, clouding everything in a heavy fog…a blinding light…

"Roxas…!"

Ironic, part of him registered. Perhaps he truly was a damsel, for as he began to faint, he felt warm, strong arms wind around him, catching him before he could fall.


	12. Descent into Gula

Disclaimer: After this long, I _still_ don't own anything. Not Kingdom Hearts, not a pony, not even a small country.

…Hi? I'm back! I apologise for the ridiculously long hiatus (last updated 2008? Really?), but at last I managed to put together some chapter outlines for this story again, so I'm _pretty_ sure I remember where I was going with this. If not, I'll pretend this is the new and improved way I was going to end it!

Thanks to everyone who reviewed during my sabbatical – you helped me so much. Knowing that people still cared meant the world to me, and finally prompted me to get back to work.

You've waited more than long enough – to the chapter!

* * *

Even in unconsciousness, time could slow to a crawl that made every moment feel agonising. The imaginary ticking of the clock lay into the sun-boy's flesh, digging in and peeling it viciously away, one millimetre at a time. After several hours, he was bloody, exposed, raw – bared for all the world to see. They would look upon Roxas and see all he held inside. His skin could not protect him, anymore.

Was the feeling even real? He _knew_ he had lost consciousness, he knew he had to have been dreaming…but the exposure, the jarring grip shaking Roxas free of himself held too much truth to be ignored.

Dreams could not replicate sensations that he had never before felt. More powerful than even his flaying was the tension mounting in his chest, like a compact ball of energy steadily expanding. It was pressing on his ribs, his lungs, crushing his heart. It ought to have been painful.

Somehow, it neglected to be. His bones…they were not meant to be there, anyway. They were no longer important to him. His earthly body just seemed trivial.

'…_Have I died, then? Is this what it feels like to be dead?'_

Strange. In life, Roxas had never given this moment much thought. He hadn't known anyone, back home, who did. Death simply happened. It was excruciating for those left behind…but for the dying, life's hold being released was supposed to end everything. _Nothingness_ meant no more pain.

…So perhaps, then, he wasn't dead.

Perhaps the dull roar in his ears was not the void…it was too warm and comforting to be so. Why had he ignored that fact? The distant sound felt like a beacon, trying to envelope him.

But, he was, already…there was something around his body, was there not? Like a blanket cradling him, or…an embrace…

The pressure in his chest exploded. Pieces of him scattered, and in the land of the conscious, Roxas's eyes opened.

"…-xas! _Roxas!_"

Axel's voice had become harsh; he was far too loud, volume clashing against the walls of the blonde's head and making his mind sing. It felt as though he'd been struck by something hard, leaving him numb. Unthinkingly, he pushed himself from the flame-spinner's embrace.

They were on the forest floor, twilight blanketing the sky above them – had an entire day passed? Ripples played upon the surface accursed lagoon, dusting the purpled surface in their direction. A taunt. How inviting the water had looked, before…dead, cold, beautiful, but inviting. Now, it should have been barbed; Roxas had stumbled into its trap.

He could not connect one thought to another. He just _felt_. The cold grass under his palms, the scratchiness of the dirt, the hair-raising brush of wind against his neck. Axel seemed to be leagues away, separated from him by the dense space between them. Roxas was aware of it.

He was aware of _everything_, and it was driving him mad.

"…Roxas?" the flame-spinner's voice was hushed and he had begun crawling towards him, moving through the gap as though it was an easy feat. It looked to Roxas like a wall – how had he accomplished that?

His hand twitched, and he attempted to move him arm. It responded as easily as it ever did. The 'space' had not solidified…his limbs just felt heavier. Thicker. Stronger?

There was a power in the core of him he had never before felt…

Axel's hand gently rested upon his back, but he was knocked away. The part of Roxas that recognised bright emerald eyes and flaming locks was buried under urges. There was an entire forest before him…and he wished to escape. Flee deeper into it, and away from the man who dared to _touch_ him.

The impish god appeared startled, hand hovering in the air as though uncertain as to what to do with it now. "Roxas…you've-…changed… What's happened to you? Will you talk to me?"

A credit to whatever camaraderie they had shared, the fair-haired boy tried to speak. He had no words of explanation to offer, nor anything to say at all, though even a single syllable failed him. All he could muster was a low, guttural growl and a vicious glare.

There was a light behind his eyes that certainly had not been there before. An actual _glow_. It almost radiated from them unsettlingly, prompting Axel into a scant retreat.

"Oh, no…"

The blonde's lips curled over pointed canines in a snarl, and that was the last glimpse of his face Axel got before Roxas sprung to his feet, dashing back through the thick of trees on all fours like a beast.

* * *

When the first storm was birthed by the sky, the pair of siblings it produced were meant as foils to one another. Lightning could not strike without first the rain, and only where the rain fell.

Such limitations had ceased to bind Larxene long ago. Demyx had blessed the earth with his gift too freely…there was water everywhere. On the wind, beneath the rocks, through the trees. She could go everywhere water had already touched.

Demyx knew. He had brought his sister's destruction down upon the world, and even the good she caused could not balance the sin, in his eyes. Sin he had paved the way for.

He could not give her the satisfaction of ruining the human boy, as well, even without the looming threat of Vexen's wrath to motivate him. He could claim any act of defence in the name of the hunt, and then… Then, he would wrack his brain for what more to do.

"You _know_ I've a soft spot for you, little brother," Larxene's lie dripped from her lips like mockery. "I would hate to hurt you for the sake of vermin."

"For some reason, I have doubts about that," slowly, Demyx slipped in front of the bewildered brunette. Strange, how the entire forest had put a mark on his head, yet he had managed to avoid ever laying eyes on them all. The forest was a vast place, to be sure, but to have dodged all but Demyx…

Sora's lips parted to voice his confusion, but was prevented as the water-dancer reached blindly behind him, slender hand gripping the human's arm. The hold was gentle, but pointed; something in Sora's chest sank into his stomach.

Even without the warning…another glance at Larxene punctuated the danger in the atmosphere. The wide, gleeful smirk on her face put Sora off and brought his nausea back to the forefront of his mind. Nervousness threatened to force the water he drank back up his throat.

He shivered when she spoke again, "It's just a _human_."

Such contempt… Why did she look at him with such detestation? What had he done to offend her?

"You've two choices," she extended her arm perfectly straight, slender index finger levelled at Sora's bright blue eyes. "Come quietly, and _I_ will take you back to that _pit_ from whence you came…or you die here, and your corpse shall rest alongside my brother's."

At her words, Demyx's faint grip tightened. Sora scarcely felt it. Surely…she wasn't serious…

"L-_leave_ us, Larxene," the water-dancer sputtered. "My business with him is greater than yours!"

"If you dare tell me that you've plucked a leaf from Axel's book and adopted the wretch as your plaything, I will have you crackling until dawn," she sneered, the quick movements of her hand sharp. Her finger was drawn back until the tip of her nail touched that of her thumb, and as she drew them apart, sparks flew. Sora's eyes, already round from mystification, widened further. He couldn't have seen what he _thought_ he saw.

The current was unending, however, electricity frying the air between her fingertips and filling the air with cringe-worthy snaps. Demyx swallowed.

…He would sooner face his sister's wrath than Vexen's. Larxene had no love for him, but Vexen…the frost-maker _hated_ him. The torture would last longer, as would the cold-eyed scientist's satisfaction. He refused to give him that. He refused to give him Zexion.

"I-I am…sorry, Larxene," he swallowed his trepidation, oceanic eyes growing narrow. Sora was shoved back too quickly for the human boy to catch himself; he tumbled to the hard ground, dizzy, watching his golden-haired protector become harder to see through the thick fog. The clouds were descending – no, they were growing more thick.

A tiny splash of cold fell upon his dirtied cheek.

Larxene's girlish giggle boomed into a more sinister, raucous laugh, sparks flying from her and between the clouds, creating bursts of pale light. "_Rain_, water-dancer? Do you _never_ learn?"

It was beginning to fall fast, a downpour that seemed to sweep Demyx away entirely. Sora's head was spinning, and so he didn't try to understand. Scrambling backwards, he realised there was no place to hide save for behind the smooth, branchless trees trunks. It was the only cover provided, and he took it, throwing his back against the dark wood and peering around again, trying to see what was happening.

Demyx was still nowhere to be seen, the monsoon falling upon Larxene's head with enough force to drown a man. She appeared not to care, only laughing harder as she whipped around, movements sharp and deadly.

The water-dancer could only count on blending with the rain for so long. He crept around her, breathing shallow as to not be heard over the storm.

'_What am I to do?'_

All he could do was stall her. He only hoped Sora had the sense to flee, and with luck, he would be able to find him again…guide him back to his home, whether he wished to return or not.

Demyx knelt upon the ground, hands pressing to the dirt and pulling at the force he felt far beneath it; water, being sucked from the greedy trees' roots and through cracks in the earth the element itself had to forge. It came up through the ground, into his hands.

On his feet once again, he let the column of water swirl until the force was too powerful for even him to bear. Larxene's back was turned…he wouldn't be given a more opportune time.

The cyclone struck the centre of her back, pitching her forward onto the ground and shoving her face-first through the dirt. In that second, the sparks stopped.

That could not have possibly knocked her out…

The rain slowed to a gentler drizzle out of simple surprise. Demyx had yet to have been harmed, and yet Larxene was on the ground, motionless for the moment.

He paid for his hesitation. The ground, thoroughly soaked, was suddenly alight with electricity, skittering over the ground and grabbing hold of Demyx's ankles. The current ran through his fluid body; he was sure he screamed from the surge of pain, but all he heard was Larxene's triumphant giggle.

The lightning-thrower pulled herself up off the ground, none too pleased about the state of herself but no worse for wear. He should have known she was biding her time…

"My _stupid_ brother…you always dig your own grave."

She was upon him so fast he might have blinked, sharp talons digging into his throat. He screamed again, the sound choked, as she channelled lightning into him, agony pricking every nerve and bubbling the blood in his veins. He felt as though he were burning.

The electricity reached the back of his eyes. He could feel the current cooking everything inside him, and his vision went black – if only it heralded unconsciousness, but no, he was just blind-… His fluid nature repaired itself, drawing white over his eyes instead, but the electricity wasn't stopping. Like the surface of a lake, he couldn't become still again when Larxene was breaking him with more painful ripples.

Her hand was being drawn away, and very slowly, his vision was coming back…but it was spotted, and though her lips moved it sounded like he was trying to listen from deep underwater.

"Do you give in, now?" Larxene was almost shouting, exaggerating the movement of her lips. "The boy is already ours…will you concede, or are we not done _playing?_"

Demyx didn't hear. He didn't understand. It was too late, regardless; no answer would have pleased her, when instead she could funnel more lightning through his body.

She did, until his body was twitching and shaking with no more will of its own.

* * *

Running had been among the most terrible things Sora had ever done. Even knowing Demyx had intended him to flee, the brunette was so guilt-stricken he could scarcely stand on his own two feet. Stumbling over nothing, for the ground only seemed even more smooth the further away he got, Sora's scratched hands groped for the first tree he staggered towards, inhaling painful, ragged breaths.

Tears had spilled over his cheeks and already dried into stains. Coming to the forest…it all seemed so selfish and foolish, now. He had _meant_ to forge the way for others like him…his intentions had been good.

It seemed he was pursuing a childish dream, for which Demyx had probably paid the ultimate price.

Sora could not keep his stomach settled any longer, queasiness overtaking him. He pitched forwards, retching and spitting up water onto the budding grass below his feet. Unsteadily he leaned more deeply against the tree, saltwater beginning to sting his eyes again, and he sobbed.

Too distraught, was he, to realise how _odd_ it was for grass to suddenly be growing at his feet, in a part of the forest where there was no green.

The thin, stunted blades did not last, crinkling at though their nascent roots were being sucked dry by the vampire-like tree with which they were competing. Yet, they were replaced so quickly and doggedly that stranger elements had to be at play. Sora knew nothing of such elements.

The twisting branch forming from the dark trunk, however, he could not ignore…particularly when it curled around his throat, beginning to strangle him. Blue eyes bulged, hands gripping wildly at the appendage choking off his air, frenetically clawing until his strength had drained.

All he saw before things went dark was rose-tinted hair.


	13. Descent into Ira

Disclaimer: I own Kingdom Hearts. As in the game. …Oh, the _rights?_ No, I don't own those.

My thanks to the first five reviewers to return to (or discover) this story – **Keybladewilder3059**, **Xx-KH-FreakxX**, **The White Raven013**, **00-angel**, and **Diabolus Kara**! Actually, thanks to the sixth too – **StrangeSisters**! You guys are the ones who gave me the drive to get started on this chapter, thus I dedicate it to you!

I'm really appreciative to you guys, and to those who added me to their favourites and/or alerts! Please give me feedback, it helps convince me I should motivate myself.

Without further ado, onwards!

* * *

Riku's apprehension smothered him so snugly he could scarcely breathe, and the constant jostling was only hammering the ache into his lungs harder. Lexaeus was quicker than his massive form insinuated, but nowhere near fast enough. Every step pounded the dirt and shook the earth; the rumbling could have been mistaken for an earthquake, and briefly the silver-haired hunter entertained the idea that the village, so far from him now, was also trembling from the force.

His heart dropped further down his chest, plummeting into his stomach. The more panicked his thoughts grew, the stranger they became…and yet, he had a niggling inkling that he may not have been wrong.

Saïx's glowing eyes were all he could make out through the thick shadows, and while they didn't seem to be drawing any closer, they had not outstripped him. He was so much faster – only Zexion's unending stream of shadows kept them out of his reach. They were obscured from sight.

He had to wonder how much longer that would last. He appeared more beast than human…would he rely on sight forever, or start sniffing them out?

Riku nearly shuddered at the possibility, but his demeanour let nothing show through. If he was to die this way, he would not show the creature fear. He was a hunter, and no self-respecting bowman would let prey be superior to him…even if he fell victim to it.

The earth-shaker's massive shoulder inadvertently thrust into his gut again as he adjusted his hold on Riku mid-stride, winding him heavily and making him see stars. If either of the gods took notice, they did not express concern. There simply wasn't time for that.

Everything they passed – each tree, stone, the moss and grass – seemed to be moving at an accelerated pace. Riku was positive they had passed the same scene again and again, and it was so disorienting that he believed, for a moment, that Saïx had caught them and was dragging them back through everything they had already run past.

Zexion appeared equally displeased over it, his curse lost beneath his breath. "Marluxia must be excited – Lexaeus, where-…?"

"Not much farther," his deep voice was grave. Neither of them sounded out of breath, and Riku envied their inhumanity for a moment.

Even though nature was trying to dizzy them, the earth itself was unmoving, and Lexaeus seemed more than capable of navigating it. Through the leafy tree branches and thick vines, the solid, weathered stone walls of the mountainous knoll could be glimpsed. The dying sunlight illuminated it with a dull orange glow, making the sunken hole in the hill conspicuous…but the cave was probably their best chance at hiding. The entranceway could be barred with shadow…

Zexion had done it often enough, when he had not wanted to be found. The shadow-walker recognised it immediately as his haunt, and almost wanted to protest leading Saïx straight to it.

He would not be selfish now, though. Preventing a war had more importance than his private rendezvous with the water-dancer.

Riku was lurched forward as they dove into the cavern mouth, the sudden movement almost drawing a shout from him and prevented by practice curbing his instincts. Zexion remained near the cave entrance, throwing the darkness before them until it formed a wall so thick it could not be penetrated. Taking heaving breaths, the hunter placed a hand on his sore midsection, almost cringing. It had been a rougher rescue than he would have preferred, but he knew better than to complain.

"What now?" he demanded. "What _is_ that beast?"

"Remain quiet," Zexion commanded tersely. "Time for explanations will come later, if you still live. He is still stalking us."

"_If _-…" the hunter almost choked. He had to survive, he had to find Sora…

'_What of Sora? That monster could be after him, next…!'_

Lexaeus took position before the human they were guarding, stony features set into an impassive glare, as though he could see Saïx racing towards them even through the black. He could still feel him on the earth, kicking dirt and dust up behind him in his haste.

Built like a golem he may have been, but when facing down Saïx, even he would eventually fall.

Those haunting eyes seemed to pierce through the veil, coming into view even despite the darkness swathed about the cave's entrance. Zexion swept back, retreating further inside with his jaw firmly set. He could feel the claws raking against his barrier, like an animal scraping away at the ground to get to the rabbit hole its prey escaped to.

"Lexaeus," he warned softly, voice scarcely above a whisper. It didn't need to be any louder; they were both jarringly aware of how much time they had before Saïx would be upon them. Crouching slightly, the stony-faced god approached the shadow wall, leaving Riku feeling uncomfortably unprotected.

He knew how decently he fared against mere creatures, but _these_… Riku could come to grips with being outclassed when his life was on the line. When Sora's could be sought after, next.

Knocking an arrow, the silver-haired human retreated until his back met the wall, pulling the bowstring taut and taking aim beyond Lexaeus. Perhaps he could at least slow the beast down, if given a clear shot…

There was a faint choking sound as sharp, shining nails ripped through the barrier at last; it sounded as if Zexion had felt it. Neither human nor god allowed the sound to distract them as Saïx lunged forward, caught roughly around the neck by the earth-shaker's strong arm.

'_Too close together, too risky-…'_

The point of the arrow was levelled with the very centre of the scar crossing his face, but Riku had been right not to fire. Saïx had broken free of the grip too quickly for the human to have released the arrow, shoving his naked shoulder into Lexaeus' solar plexus. As immovable as he was, the faint _snap_ was still audible to pierce the air.

If he had broken anything, Lexaeus betrayed no pain. Tackling the beast out onto the rough grass, he swelled as though trying to take up the cave's mouth. He had the advantage of mass – if only he'd the delusion of that being enough.

Saïx had better things at his disposal. Claws, teeth, speed, a viciousness not easily matched…and to prove it, he was already back on his feet and aiming to claw through the earth-shaker's chest.

The blow didn't land on Lexaeus. Somehow, Zexion had slipped past him.

The sharp nails raked down the Oracle's pale cheek, blood slipping down his face and spraying thick paint across the ground. Floating lazily on the breeze, strands of silvery-slate joined the crimson, like an afterthought.

He had torn through Zexion's eye. Had Saïx been less surprised by the intervention, no doubt he would have killed the shadow-walker…

If he hadn't been stopped at _all_, Lexaeus would have certainly fallen. The earth-shaker understood.

Zexion's agony was unvoiced, and Lexaeus did not grieve – grabbing sapphire hair, he dropped as much force as he could manage upon his head, making him buckle. Dim shadow was creeping up, cast by the setting sun and removed from their proper places to seal up the cave entrance again.

He could have – _should have _ – held Saïx in place, tangled him in it…but he would break free. There would be no stopping him, once he learned the trick of it, and there wasn't enough at Zexion's disposal.

The distraction of his damaged eye only worsened his concentration.

Saïx allowed himself to drop to the ground, so willingly and suddenly that Lexaeus's grip was lost. More blood splashed the dirt as his claws were shoved through his legs, tearing away flesh in strips. It wasn't enough to be debilitating…he hoped…

But he wasn't even given a chance to put his mobility to the test. Saïx was still upon him, winding him as the entirety of the beast's weight was heaved into his gut, his bloodied hands this time going for Lexaeus's throat.

It seemed he had bought them, at best, a few moments.

The pounding of running feet didn't register with the ground, nor did it reach the feral servant's ears in time. The interruption struck him again… This time, actually _striking_.

Golden hair. Sky-eyes that had taken on an unnatural glow. It was a wild tangle of paleness and blue – Lexaeus almost couldn't see what was happening until rivulets of red were trickling from re-opening scars on Saïx's body.

Common sense had been replaced with inexplicable instinct within Roxas's mind. Saïx was a stranger, but an _enemy_ – to be torn down, slaughtered like a farm animal, before-…

Before…it didn't matter. Roxas didn't care.

Surprise had gotten the better of Saïx for only a short time, and then he was howling; the sound sent unnatural shivers through Roxas until he was almost convulsing, getting away from the too-loud noise that made him feel as though his ears were leaking blood. He was returning his injuries in kind; the blonde almost cried out as sharp nails dug into his stomach, trying to reach inside him and pull.

He had scrapped before in the village with other boys over meaningless, petty arguments. Roxas couldn't even remember those tiny brawls, now; this lacked what minimal form even that had. Both of them were simply trying to maim, to kill the other – his hand was covering Saïx's face, fingertips digging in as hard as he could manage, the other trying to shred. Saïx was returning in kind, liquid slipping down the wound being steadily torn open so close to his throat it was dangerous.

Lexaeus lumbered forward – the damage done to his legs was indeed worse than he'd hoped – grabbing Zexion by the arm. For all the shadow-walker's composure, he seemed to be in faint shock, the palm of his hand pressed to his destroyed eye. He could scarcely even see, grey clouding the vision of his other eye, but he could make out the dogfight in front of him well enough to stare.

He recognised Axel's human…but there was certainly no justification for calling him _human_, anymore…

Roxas's instincts coincided with the shadow-walker's realisation unnervingly. A hateful growl ripping from his gullet, the hand clenched over Saïx's eyes contracted, the brilliant flash of light painful to look towards directly. The beast's wail spoke in agreement; even as Roxas leapt away, he did not give immediate chase, clutching at his blinded eyes.

It was the only opportunity it seemed Riku was going to get. The shadow barrier had fallen, Roxas was nowhere near him – the hunter let his arrow fly, and it struck between Saïx's shoulder blades dead centre.

Zexion's muscles went stiff. It had all happened so quickly that he couldn't be sure what to make of it…but the opportunity had been provided, and though the sound from the Superior's pet was terrible, it cleared his head. Shadows wrapped around Saïx from beneath him, like ants skittering up his body, holding him in place to keep him from thrashing. Riku did not stop with the single arrow; another was let go, and another, until there were three deeply embedded in the creature's bare back.

Roxas's chest rose and fell erratically, drawing breaths that were too quick and shallow. With that burst of light, he had felt a sort of weight being lifted, as though the craze of new instincts and sensations had cleared enough to let his mind function again. Who he _was_ began returning to him…but more prevalent was utter disbelief.

What had he just _done_…?

Riku, too, seemed to realise that it had been _Roxas_ to burst upon the scene with all the ferocity of a rabid wolf. He collapsed against the wall, arms aching faintly from having been held so strained, staring flabbergasted at the bloodied blonde.

"Lexaeus," Zexion's voice sounded unnatural, the air still thick with tension. "I hate to ask haste from you-…"

"Yes," the earth-shaker understood. Ignoring the searching pain through his legs, he shambled towards the fallen beast to drag him towards the cave, sending a wary glance towards the heavens. The sun had nearly descended completely into the unseen horizon, leaving the sky bloodshot with pink and orange; the fiery colours outshone the moon, for the time being…

However, that would not last much longer.

Riku withdrew from the cavern, taking slow, cautious steps towards Roxas. He had not dropped his weapons, unnerved by what he had witnessed the blonde do, and he sounded more than simply careful as he lowly inquired, "Roxas…?"

It was still too much within his mind. Even with his life flooding him again – memories of Sora, his thoughts and his dread – _new_ things were still clamouring for his attention. The unnatural way the dwindling sunlight caught in Riku's hair, creating a whole broad spectrum of colours he had never even _seen_ before… The whistling of the wind, which no longer seemed to be just a _sound_, as it instead spoke an entirely new language it expected Roxas to know fluently.

His teeth bared unthinkingly, animalistic impulses still overtaking him. Riku seemed to speak again, but his words made no sense, an odd, muffled jumble as he instead listened to the gruesome dragging of Saïx's body as it was pulled so far into the cave that even the oncoming moonlight could not touch it.

Roxas could _scent_ the cold death clouding the carcass, even though it was overpowered by the stinging smell of copper on his own hands. And…something fresh, woodsy, and _human_ – was it Riku? No other human stood before him, but how was it he was even able to identify such a thing?

It was too much to take.

"Remain still – _Roxas _..." Riku's voice strengthened as the blonde began to slink back, overwhelmed and feeling sick. "Have you found any sign of Sora? Are you _alright?_ What…what has _happened_ to you…?"

Wisely, Riku was not attempting to approach him any further. Roxas almost feared that he would attack the hunter, were he to take another step. They had never been on gracious terms, but he would not wish him harm… Particularly not when he was the first truly familiar face he could recall seeing in too long a time.

It hadn't really even been so long. Strange, how it felt like a lifetime to Roxas, now.

Closing his eyes to block out all the demanding details on otherwise mundane sights, the blonde took a deep, steadying breath. The simple intake of air was more comforting than it ought to have been, managing when his prior attempts had failed.

…This breath had tasted of warmth.

Slowly, Roxas breathed in again, something new coming over his heightened senses. No, 'new' wasn't apt. It smelled of fire, of crackling embers and sweet smoke, so recognisable that he could have wept.

Of course Axel was in pursuit…

Zexion stepped out of the cavern's craw, white hand brushing through the curtain of slate. Thick as it was, it could not cover the mangled mess of his face, deep cuts beginning to distend. Roxas's stomach churned, but he said nothing.

"Axel approaches," the shadow-walker murmured – for whose benefit, the blonde did not know. He could _tell_; it felt odd to him, knowing that there had ever been a time where he could not merely breathe and know the flame-spinner was near.

Riku seemed to have given up on inquiries. He did not press Roxas for answers, nor did he ask about Axel. The latter struck the blonde as more impressive, as the impish god came into sight.

He knew from experience that viewing him for the first time was enough to bring a thousand questions to mind.

"Roxas," he breathed, coming towards him quickly. He paused, though, when close enough to reach out and touch. "What happened-… Zexion!" he almost choked, voice strangled when he caught a glimpse of the slate-haired Oracle, tresses still dripping garnet red.

"It will heal," his monotone was dismissive.

"Axel…"

He felt like the flame-spinner's presence had been the final strike of the hammer, beating his sanity back into the proper shape. Roxas still felt violently off-kilter, but he stood, trying to pretend the falling night appeared to him as it always had.

Strange; he could see as though it were clear as day, yet the night appeared so different and beautiful. Had he never _seen_ the night before?

One of Axel's hands rested upon his shoulder, producing more warmth than possible. "Are you well again?" the concern he was displaying was sincere, painfully so. Roxas felt an unwelcome and unfamiliar surge of remorse clawing at him.

He didn't even know what had happened…he could not be blamed for worrying Axel in such a way.

Only his twin brother ever managed to make him feel so guilty.

"I am…changed," he muttered, "but not unwell. Though, I-…I just-…"

"Forget what you may have done," Zexion interjected. "Your arrival was timely. You rescued your human friend, and Lexaeus and I would have suffered far greater damage were it not for you."

It seemed the shadow-walker was misreading his shame, though Roxas was not going to make any attempt to correct him. He couldn't understand it, himself.

Axel seemed distracted, regardless, brushing aside Zexion's statement. "I'm glad…but, Roxas…"

Even without further words, his tone of voice made Roxas stiffen with dread.

"Marluxia… He found Sora before we did. He's taken him… He, and Larxene."

The memory of a disdainful, loathsome face twisting itself out of tree bark and sharp, girlish giggles speared through his heart like one of Riku's arrows, shooting it down through his body into the pit of his stomach.

* * *

The moon refused to shine as brightly as it ought to have, tonight. It was full…pale, round beauty hovering out of reach, taunting. Just as his Saïx was beyond his reach, right then.

Yet it never looked so unattainable as it did tonight. So distant, up in the sky, that it only spiked Xemnas's ire further.

Saïx was dead. He could feel such things, even without the mocking reminder from the night sky. Killed on the hunt, of all things…to think that his graceful, deadly pet could have been felled during a _game_.

It was the indignity that stung the most. _His_ beloved, falling in _his_ domain, because an intruder had thought it fair to walk through _his_ forest.

Xemnas dressed himself, coming down from the lofty haven he had built for himself and his pet.

He would have him suffer, for this slight, and the Superior would bring that justice upon the human himself.


	14. Descent into Acedia

Disclaimer: You have three guesses as to what I don't own, and the winner gets…the rights to Kingdom Hearts! Sadly, if you _did_ guess that said rights are what I don't own, you don't get anything. As aforementioned, I don't have them to give.

Everyone loves a good, old-fashioned convoluted disclaimer, don't they?

My thanks goes out to **Keybladewilder3059**, **XxKH-FreakxX**, **StrangeSisters**, and anonymous reviewer **chalicity**! Especially thanks to those who reviewed upon return – it's much appreciated, and again, I dedicate this chapter to you.

While I'm at it, and because hardly anyone reads these, I'm also going to thank **Squishy Eeyore** for writing a Dragon Age: Origins fanfic that satisfies my current obsessive craving for that fandom. Any fans of the Warden, go read her stuff. And then review her telling her to update ASAP, so I have more to read.

All glory to the hypno-toad. Amen.

To the chapter!

* * *

It was the thick stench of smoke that roused her.

As a child, Kairi had fumbled through the awkward stage of growing with only minor bouts of clumsiness, but it had only taken once incident to scar her. In the dead of winter, she had kept a small candle at her bedside to lend some warmth for a few hours or so, until the wick withered to ash and the firelight ate itself. It had taken only one restless night, one foolish error, for her woollen blanket to catch. Thankfully, the burning smell had woken her even more quickly than the warmth could, and very little was harmed.

Since then, she had always been plagued by foolish trepidation over the incident occurring again, even though she no longer risked even a small candle. Kairi sleepily tried to assume herself that it was only that dream again. The realisation always cleared her senses.

This time, though…it did not. Chilling her to the bone, she sat bolt upright in her bed, and realised that the distant screams were not in her head, either.

There was no concept of danger in the village. _Danger_ was only _outside_. As alertness struggled to catch up with her, she grabbed the quilted coverlet from her bed and wrapped it over her bare shoulders to stave off the cold. Barefoot and rushed, Kairi rushed from her room, running through the modest house to the front door.

Outside was pandemonium; there was no rain, but lightning struck so violently that roofs were catching and caving in. To her immense relief, she couldn't see that anyone had been harmed; families were crowded outside their burning homes, looking on in devastation or struggling to round up their livelihood.

She immediately thought of the chickens she had been tending in Sora and Roxas's stead. Kairi prayed the henhouse had not come to harm.

As though it even mattered…hope was wearing thin, even at the best of times, and with her entire world falling apart before her it was difficult to think of them ever coming back.

Nevertheless, she had to check – and her parents, where were they?

'_One thing at a time.'_

Her mother and father were capable folk. They would be alright, no matter what…of that, she was certain. Dashing back inside, she hurried to look in on their bedroom and raise a clamour to waken them.

Everything seemed to be moving at a quicker pace than it should. The need to explain was cast aside, as a glance out their window was enough to bring them to full consciousness. Her mother was fretting; her father, bustling about, gathering what he could in case the plague of lightning fell upon their house next.

Kairi cared for no possession. They could make more, or be replaced by well-meaning neighbours…if they even had anything left to give, by the end of the night.

She scarcely bid her parents farewell before racing back outside, cold grass almost tangling around her ankles as she ran towards the abandoned cabin of her dearest friend. It had seemed so cold, since Roxas departed after his brother…and colder still, on this night.

Perhaps it was her blood than froze, for she could see crackling light beyond the modest house. The henhouse-…

Her pace quickened frantically, the coverlet slipping from her shoulders and fluttering to the ground, where it was swallowed by the grass. Kairi took no notice, frantic, the hem of her long nightgown muddying as she sprinted towards the deathtrap.

Whether it was to preserve things for Sora, or because the animals were the only reminder she had of him, she could not abide by the idea of letting them die, particularly in so horrific a way. The thought made her choke.

Wrestling with the heavy latch, she pried open the door and jumped back, the birds' wings clipping her as they scurried out in a flurry. The birds were frantic, moving about too erratically for her to count. Recklessly, she stuck her head inside and recoiled from the odour alone. Burning feces and hay created so acrid a smell that she felt dizzy…but she saw nothing. The fire was not so terrible, yet.

A mild relief, at best.

Coughing and covering her mouth, Kairi turned and felt her heart sink faintly as she watched the chickens scatter. She had left the fence open, and they were running wild outside of the coop…but she could worry about rounding them up later.

Taking off at a run again – slower, this time, giving her space between each stride to catch her breath – the garnet-haired girl went back to the steadily-building congregation of the villagers, women keeping their children back as men tossed well-water from pails at the flames.

"That one, there-…"

"It's _lost!_ There'll be nothing left of this one, even if we put it out!"

"We need more water!"

Another crack of lightning broke through the shouts, but they had been so constant it was easily ignored. The malevolent giggle that followed sliced through all the noise so cleanly, though, that they may have very well been a village of mutes. Everyone's voice seemed to die in their throat, and Kairi was no exception. She sought the source with all the others, everyone seeming to turn at once to the wispy, jagged figure of a woman.

She was like nothing Kairi had ever gazed upon. Her unearthliness was evocatively beautiful and terrifyingly jolting, and she wore nothing at all. Unthinkingly, Kairi's hands went to her bare shoulders, appalled – the only naked woman she had ever seen was herself, when bathing. Modesty was so carefully upheld in the village that it was an embarrassment to ever be seen in her nightgown.

The unnerving blonde woman could not have been from the village, but…where else was there to have originated? Unless she was wild-…

Someone near Kairi screamed, almost right in her ear, and she flinched away. The woman was not alone, but where her comrade had come from was an astonishing mystery – he could not have been there moments ago. Unlike the woman, he had clothed himself in shining, woven green, covering him so completely that she had to question if he was, indeed, a man. There was an androgynous beauty to his face, delicate and feminine…but strong and masculine, a contradiction.

And in his arms-…

"_Sora!_" her voice had leapt past her lips before she had even realised she could speak, again, and Kairi only became aware of the fact that she'd broken through the crowd when hands were clutching at her arm, trying to pull her back to safety.

Those _people_ were anything but 'safe'. Even the least observant of children could tell, evident by the way every single one of them ducked behind their mothers' skirts.

"What a pitiful display," Larxene continued to cackle madly. "Did you see them? Scrambling about to dampen my fun…these creatures are _rude_."

"You went to such efforts to announce our arrival, and it has gone unappreciated," Marluxia's even gaze roved over every single one of the ashen-faced humans, though they lingered on Kairi. She had been fighting her neighbour's grip, but couldn't fight the instinct to fall still under his scrutiny. She felt like a captured rabbit, frozen still by fear as the hunter approached with a knife.

But Sora… He looked lifeless, dangling from Marluxia's arms like one of the dolls she'd toted about as a little girl. If it were not for the faint rising and falling of his chest, she would have assumed they had killed him.

'_Perhaps they have, and his breathing is merely a trick of the light…'_

Tears sprung to her eyes, and despite her trepidation, she spoke confidently, "You've, in your arms-…"

"Sora, you called him?" Marluxia raised a derisive eyebrow, murmuring a soft aside to his nude companion in following. Kairi couldn't catch the sound of his voice, but the movement of his lips was unmistakeable, and Larxene broke into louder laughter.

"Humans," the rose-haired man spoke, almost spitting the address. "Do not take our _games_ in offense. We come to return this wanderer and seek retribution that he had done to _our_ home of the forest…nothing more. We burn your homes as he destroyed my creations, trudging about without a care… Do not bear us ill will, and we may forgive _you_ your trespasses."

Insincerity ripened his announcement, and seemed to bring his captive audience back to life…yet, all Kairi could think was that her tears were beginning to spill over from sheer relief.

They had come to return Sora. He was _home_.

"You may even express your thanks," Larxene interrupted her respite with a sharp smile, "as you gather your trash."

"Once you've taken what we have spared you, she and I shall clear a path for you through the Forest of Veritas, and you will _leave_ our place forever," Marluxia commanded harshly. "We give you that option, with the incentive of the safe return of this _boy_…and your own lives being spared."

"No-…!"

The fingers digging into her arm were not enough of a hold. Kairi broke the grip and charged them, feeling briefly maddened. They would murder them all, or have them leave their _home_, all they had ever known.

They would kill Sora…

"Kairi!" the deep voice of the village elder boomed, and there were shrill gasps all around as the girl was jerked forward, a nimble hand locking around her slender throat. Larxene twisted Kairi's arm, holding it at a painful angle behind her back, and brought the human towards her all so quickly that no one had the time to draw a breath.

Faintly trembling, she kept her eyes on Sora's face. The way he hanged from Marluxia's arms tilted his face towards her upside-down, expression serene despite the chaos around them. It helped keep her mind clear; she didn't want to think about the woman holding her roughly captive, or the faint burns rippling under her skin where Larxene's fingers made contact.

Ansem was coming cautiously forward, keeping a fair distance as to keep from provoking the two. "Surely you realise…we've nowhere else to go," his voice was soothing, calm. It had to have been forced, given their predicament, but the illusion was enough to keep the villagers somewhat steady.

"If you are unwilling to seek your fortunes elsewhere, then I am afraid your luck has run out, here," Marluxia sneered.

"Please understand," the elder hastened to keep him listening. "We will do anything you ask, for the safe return of that boy and girl…but to leave our village would mean death for us all. There is nothing for us beyond the forest."

"To _stay_ means death for you all," the lightning-thrower grinned wickedly, eliciting a yelp from Kairi as electricity crackled through her fingers, stinging and burning the girl's skin.

"Mistake us not. Larxene and I are not cruel…"

Kairi had to bite her tongue.

Sora was adjusted in the man's arms so that he slumped forward, sitting like a puppet about to be prompted to speak. Eerily, Marluxia's fingers slid through untamed chestnut hair, smoothing it in a mocking display of tenderness, even though the revulsion on his face could not be concealed.

"Vermin such as you mean nothing at all, to us," he remarked coolly. "Were we not the merciful sort, we could simply eradicate you all and be done with it. However, such a messy affair does not yet appeal to me."

The stress of his words made it abundantly clear that his mood could change with little prompt.

"We will graciously offer you…one hour. An hour in which you may decide what is best for your tiny populace…whether you prefer to find another mud hole to wallow in, or if you think it best to meet your end tonight."

As she was being kept flush to Larxene's body, Kairi was privy to the mutterings between them. The lightning-thrower seemed displeased, chagrined whisper snapping accusatorily at him.

"We offer them _time?_ They don't deserve the opportunity…what if they attempt to rebel?"

Kairi was wracked with the wild urge to make her concern public. She had the sense to know that doing so would only bring a death sentence upon them, however, and bit her tongue again. She could hope that Elder Ansem would come to such a conclusion himself – beasts could be fought and killed, and surely _these_ were no different, no matter how human their forms were.

Marluxia spoke to the elder and Kairi's neighbours again, though he seemed to be addressing Larxene, "We shall be taking these rodents with us, and watch from the forest's edge."

Further warning needed not be said; Ansem's jaw set, nodding abruptly in understanding.

Kairi tried to lurch forward as Larxene began to drag her back into the trees, panic swarming her again as the congregation grew distant and the dying flames were obscured from sight by trees.

* * *

The stillness was nauseating, the weight of Axel's revelation absorbing through his skin and churning his stomach. The air was thicker than it used to be, so much so that Roxas feared for his consciousness.

Riku was upon them both, separating Roxas from the flame-spinner before either could protest. He was gripping the imp's shoulders, knuckles whiter than his face.

"Who is it that has him?" he demanded. "Explain to me, where has Sora gone?"

Alarmed, Axel struck at the hunter's wrists, knocking him away. That did not deter Riku in the least, his narrowed eyes still visibly blazing. Any confusion or offense seemed to dissipate with one look between them; there were more important thing afoot, the flame-spinner must have realised.

"I've no notion of where they may have taken him," Axel informed both the hunter and Roxas, vivid emerald boring into the blonde's almost vacant expression. "They have betrayed their promise to bring the human to us – hardly a shock, to me – but I never could understand the way those two think. Whatever their intentions…it's a mystery to me."

"So you have nothing more to go on than names?" Riku's tone grew vicious, accusatory; it was as though Axel had come bearing news of Sora's murder, and moments later confessed to killing the boy by his own hand.

"At least _someone_ knows where he is," Roxas snapped in his defence. "Axel knows them…and you!" he turned towards Zexion. "You were called an 'oracle' – surely you must be able to tell something…!"

"In the daylight, perhaps. The night brings darkness, not shadow. In the dark, I am deaf."

Teeth ground together in frustration. He was surrounded by _gods_, and none of them seemed capable of helping. Regardless, he had the capacity to calm himself; Roxas put too much stock in Axel, perhaps, but even being brought information was something. If the flame-spinner truly could do nothing, _Roxas_ would.

After all…he'd managed to nearly tear apart Saïx.

Riku clearly felt differently, anger coursing through his countenance.

"This – all of this – is absurdity! Sora has been taken by strangers, _you_ have become-…some kind of abomination-…"

"Don't you dare call him that," Axel's temper flared.

"You were tearing into that beast like a savage monster!" Riku accused, and Roxas could not argue. His hands were still dripping, and his body ached from Saïx's retaliation. "You don't even _look_ human anymore…whatever you have become, Sora would fear to look at you, like this! The forest has _corrupted_ you!"

He had touched a nerve. Roxas almost lunged for him to attack, eyes alight with anger. "Don't you _dare_ speak of my _brother_ like you know him better than I…!"

"I do."

The argument between the two had driven Zexion back towards the cave, to Lexaeus. Riku's ire had settled to a calmer kind of fury, tone far more piercing when not raised in hysteria.

"For all those years you closed yourself to the village, and to him, _I_ was the one Sora turned to. I know him better than I know even myself…and so I _know_. He would _loathe_ to see you as a beast."

It struck a haunting chord of truth. All the fairytales and folklore from their village had stirred Sora's imagination countless times…the vague stories had left him too much room to envisage their missing father, wandering the woods, gone mad and feral from years of loneliness and being lost.

Roxas had dismissed those imaginings at the time, but they had both agreed. They would prefer to think of their father as dead, to thinking of him as a wild monster roaming through the trees. They wanted to remember him as a good man, a loving parent, rather than a creature.

Would that be how Sora would think of him, if he knew…?

"The only favour I can do you, if I find him before you do, is neglect to tell him what you became," Riku's Adam's apple moved as he swallowed hard, and Roxas followed the motion with his eyes. It seemed oddly prevalent, with his heightened eyesight…a blatant show of the silver-haired hunter's discomfort.

They may have shared distaste for each other, but Roxas could read his regret as though it were written in script across Riku's face. He did not revel in his words, or relish the idea of hiding such knowledge from Sora…to indirectly tell him that the fair-haired brother had perished during his search.

He took a step back, as though reluctant to turn his back on Roxas, before returning to Zexion and Lexaeus. Despite the damage to his legs, the earth-shaker's mobility was not so greatly hindered that he did not immediately move to follow, each step dragging more heavily now.

It felt like a year had passed before he could no longer see or hear the triumvirate.

There were warm hands upon him that he scarcely felt; one resting on his shoulder, the other at his waist. Without a second thought, he dove into the comfort, sinking back against Axel and covering his face with a bloody hand.

Even if Sora was alive, if he was safe, if he returned safely to the village…Roxas had lost him. Were anyone but Axel there with him, he would have been humiliated to allow tears to come to his eyes, and fought tooth and nail to keep them from falling. It was simply too much effort to contain them…and he didn't care if the flame-spinner saw. His throat clenched, strangling a breathless sob, and Axel's arms wound tightly around him.

It didn't make grieving any easier, but Roxas was thankful.

The night seemed to be getting rapidly darker, mirroring his sorrow and becoming blacker than black. Roxas thought nothing of it, but the grip on him suddenly increased to uncomfortable rigidity.

"I see one of you has moved his body."

Brilliant crimson fell over Axel's face as he bowed his head, his hold on Roxas relinquished, though he apparently refused to give up his proximity. As though he was readying to cover the blonde, hide him. Tension ran down Roxas's spine, his hand dragging down his face to wipe his tears and inadvertently streaking darkening red down his cheeks, in their place. He did not recognise the god before them.

He didn't need to. Axel's anxiety made it more than clear that he was not a friend.


	15. Septum Peccatum

Disclaimer: You know the drill. And you're probably also acquainted with the hammer, possibly the screwdriver, but avoid the wrench…those things can get nasty.

My thanks goes out to my reviewers, as per usual – **Keybladewilder3059**, **StrangeSisters**, **ryuzaki-will-live-on**, **Sabre Dance**, **Diabolus Kara**, and new reviewer **Madriddler**!

Since I can put whatever I want here, I shall shamelessly plug **The Fear Mythos** – a highly enjoyable forum containing links to creepy and captivating internet stories. And while I'm advertising, this chapter was brought to you by Coca-Cola. Coke: providing a boost to fanfiction writers running off three hours sleep since 2011.

Hope everyone had a good holiday and new year – we greet 2012 with the penultimate chapter. Or, final chapter, excluding the epilogue. Whatever. On with the show we go!

* * *

"Superior."

Axel's head hanged, displaying a medley of thin respect, shame, and nervousness. Roxas was quick on the uptake and sank into a similar pose, shoulders stiff with apprehension. After all he had seen the flame-spinner struggle against without showing fear, the insecurity in his demeanour was chilling.

Even with him so very close, Roxas felt the chill. Xemnas had smothered Axel's flame with his overbearing presence, and it wasn't only the warmth he had driven away. Every element seemed to have stilled; the wind, the grass, the earth. Even time seemed to cease its relentless passage, and the fair-haired boy had difficulty remembering how long they had simply been standing before Xemnas with their heads bowed. Had it been seconds? Years?

It was nerve-wracking, and he felt his lungs expel what air they were holding and cease their function.

Gaze snaking upwards after too-long and too-short, he glimpsed the cool non-expression resting on the Superior's features. If he hadn't appeared so calm-… No, _because_ of his calm, Roxas was beginning to sweat. Visible anger would have been a relief to see. Instead, his mind darted to possibilities – he couldn't even tell if Xemnas was furious, or merely remarking upon the situation.

"You murdered my beast," he spoke at last, not directing the observation at either being before him, "and had not the decency to leave his body for me to collect. I imagine Saïx was not taken far?"

Axel seemed reluctant to answer, defensive posture sidling more towards Roxas, covering him. "Just out of the moonlight… By your rules, Superior."

Roxas could almost feel the way Axel's mind was whirring, thoughts clicking into place in a hasty inferno. Whichever thoughts had sparked his conclusion, they seemed to have settled into a steady burn, and although the warmth returned somewhat Roxas was still on edge.

He had a feeling the Superior was difficult to lie to.

"Explain," Xemnas was betraying himself with a sharp tone, challenging Axel for an acceptable answer.

"There are no rules to the hunt. Our comrades are our obstacles," the impish god sounded like a child, explaining his game to a chiding parent. "As a newly birthed god, Roxas began taking part in our games when he awoke from his change… Saïx was an obstacle. He did no harm, in his victory."

"It cannot be called a 'victory' until the human is produced," Xemnas narrowed livid eyes, setting them upon the fair-haired boy. Roxas could only dimly hear him, though; his head was filled with buzzing.

A 'new god'? That couldn't be-… Axel's lies were beautifully spun, to have swayed the Superior, but it made no sense for them to have worked so well. Surely, if anyone could tell the difference between a human, a god, and…whatever it was that he had become…it was the deity in front of them, reeking with authority.

He was not taking part in 'the hunt', and he was not one of them. How was it Xemnas had not struck them both down, for Axel's allegation?

"Perhaps we have not yet succeeded, Superior, but the kill was lawful," Axel debated ardently, jaw setting. It seemed he had realised a mistake, and Xemnas was quick to counter.

"We?" he took a small step forward, and Roxas was seized maddeningly by the need to back away further. "The two of you have paired, have you…?"

Axel hesitated only a moment. "Yes…it was both of our doing."

Roxas parted his lips to speak, but found his voice had been robbed of him. He couldn't be sure what the two of them meant, but he had a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach.

"…Well then," Xemnas murmured. "This complicates the matter of retribution, in some ways… Simplifies it, in others. I will concede to your argument, that Saïx was slain within the laws of the hunt."

Roxas let out a slow, silent breath.

"I demand an eye for an eye, regardless."

His chest promptly seized again – both from the violent image of Zexion's ruined visage, Xemnas's words calling it jarringly to memory, and from the reality of what he was saying.

He was going to take his life. Roxas was to die, for murdering that _monster_.

"Please!" he blurted, almost catching onto Axel as he slid to one knee, chest tightening. "Please, you mustn't – I need to live, just long enough to find-…to _win_, to win the hunt…"

If he died now...the chances of Sora being lost forever were too great. He had nothing more to lose, save for that one thing.

"Determination earns no admiration from me," the Superior was unimpressed, "nor does begging. It's unbecoming, of a god…such human habits must be circumvented before they become routine."

"Do not worry."

Axel's voice was gentle, enveloping him. Gently, Roxas was lifted by his arm, brought back to his feet. He tried to protest, but words were trapping themselves in his throat, for the second time.

The flame-spinner seemed so assured, as though he'd had the solution all along. There was still fear in his face, but it was overshadowed, and by the time he turned the expression on Xemnas it was completely tranquil.

"Roxas and I were partners in the slaughter, but the hunt means nothing to me. If my life would appease you-…"

"_No!_"

Roxas felt suddenly blind, and he couldn't recognise the sound of his own voice, when raised so frantically. His composure was breaking into tinier pieces, far more fearful when he'd realised his own life was in jeopardy.

Axel…warm, bizarre, fierce Axel…offering his own death to preserve Roxas. He wouldn't have it.

One hand covered his mouth before he could cry out again. The flame-spinner still appeared far too calm.

"It means nothing to me," he told the fair-haired boy serenely. "You've better reasons to go on, than I. You shouldn't look so sad…"

Roxas rarely shed tears, and to his great humiliation, they were trickling from his eyes, now.

"You must be joking…" he was muffled by Axel's palm, but the meaning came through anyway. He only grinned. It didn't fit the situation, and it was too unnerving to look at – bright blue eyes darted away, towards the ground and the cave and the sky. Anywhere but at Axel.

"It isn't the end," the flame-spinner promised, pulling away from him. Roxas had never felt more freezing in all his life.

Xemnas watched the scene, detached, simply waiting for Axel to come forward. There was some small glimmer of satisfaction, though, at the decision that had been reached.

It was over in moments.

Or, perhaps it was an eternity.

The flame was being extinguished from within. It was as though Axel was being pulled apart, something dark erupting from his very core and disintegrating. The agony played out across his sharp features like a show, running at half-speed, widening his eyes – the light in them was fading, replaced by ash…glassy, mirroring the earth as he fast approached it, falling forward. Unmoving.

Roxas didn't understand how there was still a body left. Whatever Xemnas had done, it looked to have destroyed him. For a fleeting, hopeful instant…he thought he had imagined the whole thing.

But Axel was still. There was no more rise and fall of his shoulders or chest. He looked like a doll, scarlet tresses spilled through the grass like blood.

It looked too unreal. Roxas tried to swallow his heart, which had lodged itself in his throat, but the heightened thrum had dried it out. It was beating so fast.

Making fun of him, highlighting the fact that while his still beat, Axel's did not.

Slowly, he began to sink to his knees, but his balanced missed. He almost toppled beside Axel's body, collapsed beside him, one hand catching him by resting at the small of his back.

He was still warm. Axel was always warm.

Xemnas had already moved on, proceeding towards the cave mouth. Roxas didn't even see him.

Axel was dead.

Axel was _dead_.

For him. For his sake.

Blank, brilliant blue shone as more tears fell – faster now, though he was too numb to feel them. Everything around him still seemed to be moving slower than it ought to have, the moonlight too bright, somehow. He could see everything so clearly.

He wanted to gouge his own eyes out. Make the vision go away.

Xemnas was carrying Saïx's limp body in his arms, the silver light casting strange shadows over their faces. Perhaps the Superior was feeling what Roxas was feeling, and hiding his face accordingly. He didn't know. He couldn't think.

Nothing seemed real, and he couldn't tell what he was imagining, anymore. Surely, one of the things he had merely envisioned was Axel's murder, but-…

He remained lifeless, under his hand. He was getting colder.

Xemnas carried Saïx away, the beast's fingers beginning to twitch under the moon's touch.

* * *

All the warmth in the world had been swept from under Kairi's feet, panic boldly parading over her face. Marluxia and Larxene were taking no notice, however; the latter was grousing with ever-increasing agitation, lamenting that they had given the humans too much time, been too lenient with her destruction.

Sora, still unaware and unconscious, slept just out of her reach. For the past few hours, he had remained in such a state, dead to the world, and Kairi feared permanent damage had been done. It had to be past midnight, and in all that time he hadn't so much as stirred. She could have moved to touch him – shake him awake, perhaps – but she feared what would happen if she drew the slightest bit of attention to herself.

Marluxia, in particular, was frightening her more and more. Larxene clearly had power, but him… He was the one who seemed _driven_, and pitiless. Ideas kept coming to her, but she buried them before she could dwell, for they were all fruitless; how was she expected to appeal to a creature so…without mercy?

But there had to be a way. She wouldn't let them rob her of their homes.

'_Just think. What can be done to appease them…?'_

She simply had to play to her strengths. Even if she were any sort of fighter, she was outclassed…but she could talk.

She only had to wait for the right moment.

"I regret not just setting loose on the entire clearing," Larxene was complaining. "Imagine, the fun we would have had… I could destroy, and you could rebuild."

"We still can, once they've gone."

"But what fun is that?" she exclaimed. "_I_ want to see them run in circles! Trapped in the little hole they built in our forest. It's _unfair_, that we're letting them go with so little punishment…"

At that, Kairi nearly interjected, but kept her head. Thankfully, Marluxia seemed to think along the same lines as she.

"They've nowhere to go but the emptiness beyond the forest," he remarked. "That will be penalty enough. More satisfying, perhaps, than a quick and fiery death at your hands, my love… Watching them wither will be cathartic, after all they've put me through."

His fingers brushed and toyed with a drooping leaf on a tree, and Kairi watched it grow fuller and stronger. The unusual power they both possessed was beginning to stir musings, trying to piece together what might appeal.

She was starting to find hope.

"Perhaps-…" her voice was weak, and she trembled a little more when they both looked upon her; one with contempt, the other with glee. Larxene seemed to be waiting for Kairi to say something worth killing her for.

"Perhaps we humans could-…could redeem ourselves another way," she tried not to stumble over her words, which became easier as her faith built. If she could phrase it right, appeal to them in the proper way-…

"I like our plan of redeeming you through death," Marluxia dismissed.

"Are you certain you've given it enough thought?" Kairi asked, and immediately winced at the glower that fell upon her. "I meant no offence – clearly, you're wise, and the power you possess… Humans like myself, we cannot even comprehend what you do."

His ego was the proper target. Marluxia was mollified enough to withdraw his glare, turning away from her slightly with the intention of ignoring their hostage, but Kairi cautiously went on.

"I mean to say…perhaps there is a possibility you could not think of, because you are on a level above we humans. We could have uses, to you…"

"As conductors, perhaps?" Larxene inquired wickedly. Kairi felt her cheeks pale, but didn't give in.

"What appreciation could you give each other, when you both have such considerable power? You are…higher beings. You ought to be recognised, there should be monuments in your name! Dedicated to devoting you. Don't you agree…?"

She was stirring something in Marluxia. Arrogance, and deliberation – the way out was in sight, and Kairi had to fight to keep her heart from beating any faster. If she could save their home…rescue Sora…

"A higher being cannot exalt you the way humans could. I can even see it, now – statues carved from stone, to your likeness… We would put aside time in every day, and use it to praise you and your creations. Lightning, and nature – we could show respect to your idols, maybe offer tributes…!"

"Marluxia," Larxene cut across urgently, but the cruel-faced Druid seemed rather enraptured, too much so to hear her. To Kairi's relief, though, the nymph didn't seem to be preparing to argue. She, too, had an expression touched by the vision Kairi had painted.

If she pushed just a little further…

Swallowing nervously, she put aside her anxiousness, full of hope. "Why else were humans put on this earth, if not to honour you?"

"Why, indeed," Marluxia murmured, deep in thought. "Statues, in my likeness… I rather like the sound of that."

Larxene was beginning to giggle, sending shivers crackling down Kairi's spine. "As do I. A temple of my own… I always thought it unfair, that my baby brother had a place entirely to himself. A beautiful pool that was all his. A temple, for me – that could be far prettier."

"If built in tribute to you, I'm sure it would be beautiful," Marluxia purred. "The humans really ought to pay their dues to us, after living in our world for centuries… It would be a _start_."

"And with the humans dedicating themselves to _us_, it would be our clearing again," Larxene sounded delighted. "Our territory, simply being…tended to."

Kairi let out a breath she hadn't been aware she'd been holding.

* * *

Dawn was making a slow approach, but it couldn't be seen through the thick blanket of foliage the unnaturally tall trees created, smooth trunks reaching heavenwards for so long it was dizzying. Riku had never seen such a thing, but couldn't even pause to appreciate the hunting conditions they created.

Besides, even if everything else was dead – no grass, no leaves, only clear visibility save for the tree trunks – there was no sign of Sora. He had called out a few times, against Zexion's recommendations, the only response being his own voice bouncing back at him.

"He must have gone this way, though," Riku murmured, not for the first time, nor the last. "This is the way out of the forest…it must be."

"And you don't think he would have turned back to find your village?" Zexion arched an eyebrow, finally relenting to ask the question that had been grating at him. Despite the conditions of their travelling party, he was acting as he always did, needing only to walk a tad more carefully to avoid stumbling. The depth perception stolen from him seemed to make for even worse travelling than Lexaeus's legs…though, perhaps it only felt so because the earth-shaker moved so steadily and slow even in the best of conditions.

"No… I know he kept going."

Zexion didn't question further, for which he was grateful…but the cause of his silence took on a grim atmosphere where he grabbed for the hunter's forearm, stopping him in his tracks.

There was a figure, lying ahead…motionless. For a wrenching moment, Riku thought it might be Sora.

Leaving the two of them behind, Zexion swept forward, gliding over the cold ground and making his way to Demyx's side. He was frighteningly pale, his skin almost translucent white, all traces of colour having been washed out. Gently, the shadow-walker's hand touched his cheek; he was frigid to the touch, and had he shown any signs of frostbite Zexion may have concluded he had been murdered recently, by Vexen's hand.

Slowly, Riku approached, gauging Zexion's reaction. He had never seen the Oracle rush forward, before, and there was pain etched in every movement.

"My Demyx," he breathed. "Sweet water-dancer…"

Riku slowly bowed his head, speaking quietly, "I'm very sorry…"

Zexion appeared to ignore his sympathies. Turning his torso, he reached out his other hand, for a moment groping blindly before his vision readjusted. Riku's canteen was ripped from its strap, slender fingers working the cap free.

"Don't-…" Riku was incredulous, tension running down his back. Crestfallen, he watched Zexion pour the remaining contents over Demyx's face, as though trying to rouse him.

It was all the water he'd had left…

More shocking than Zexion's behaviour was the effect it was beginning to have. Gently, the Oracle was washing him, brushing water over his reddening cheeks with adoring care, watching him intently.

Then Demyx's dead expression began to twist, and he screamed.

Riku's hands flew to his ears – it was a terrible sound, like a waterfall crashing down right around his ears, making every noise that followed echo horribly. It didn't seem to end for some time, and as Zexion continued, Demyx began to thrash wildly.

Lexaeus only stood by, even as limbs connected with Zexion's smaller torso and his chin.

Falling back against a tree trunk, Riku doubled over, pressing his palms more firmly against his ears until he'd gone deaf. It _felt_ as though he was deaf…but perhaps Demyx had stopped screaming, at last. He appeared to be panting heavily, his eyes once again open.

"Such pain," he cringed, but fell into Zexion's opened arms willingly, trembling from whatever ache still lingered. "The most terrible, yet…"

"It will pass," Zexion exhaled softly. "You live…that is all that's important."

"What-… What just happened?" Riku gaped slightly, thunderstruck.

"We are _gods_," Zexion spoke as though it ought to have been obvious to him. "We do not truly die, no matter what harm is inflicted upon us…By returning the fallen to his element, he will be reborn."

"'Tis an agonising process no human could ever understand," Demyx winced; he was shaking, still, inclining Riku to believe him. Drops of moisture had gathered at the corners of Demyx's eyes, spilling into Zexion's lap as he stared up at him. "Your eye…"

"I'm alright."

Gathering strength, Demyx began to sit up, taking in a ragged breath. As though mirroring Zexion's posture from moments ago, his hand lifted and lightly pressed against his cheek.

"…I am so sorry…"

"You…_people_ do not truly die?" Riku disrupted their moment. "Then, that monster – is he truly like you? Will he-…"

"He will only resurrect in moonlight, and we assured that no moon would touch him," Lexaeus reassured him.

"Our Superior will gather him, if he has not already…but he has been removed from the hunt. Either he remains dead for the time being, or he is not permitted to seek Sora," Zexion continued. "Worry not about Saïx, he is no longer a threat."

This seemed to bring Demyx even further back into life.

"He is far from safe!" he began to stand, but was too weakened to do so properly. "Larxene, and Marluxia – the two of them were here, _they_ did this to me. The human boy fled, but…I'm not sure what became of him."

"If they had caught him, the hunt would be over by now," Zexion frowned. "Would it not?"

Riku was quiet for a long moment before coming to a decision. Picking up his emptied canteen, he reattached it to his hip, murmuring, "Come or don't come, I _must_ keep going."

Demyx began shaking his head. "No – return to the village-…"

"I will _not_ return without Sora!" he almost shouted, silencing the god as though he'd tightly clapped a hand over his mouth. "He only risked himself this way for my sake…for _us_… I will not have that."

Sora was always stubborn. A determined fool, who couldn't have been content to keep their secret, as they always had… He'd _had_ to follow in his father's footsteps and venture into the woods, seeking a place for them. A place that never existed.

There was nothing beyond the village that was safe for them…but he never listened. He believed everything he was told…about creatures in the forest, about a 'better place' for the two of them… Sora would never go home, not when he believed with all his heart.

…Riku would just need to believe, as well.

"We cannot accompany you any further," Lexaeus spoke, quiet voice void of any sort of apology…but likewise lacking spite. Riku didn't doubt it was as he said.

"We have ventured far enough, outside our realm," Zexion murmured in agreement. "To go any further would risk too much…I know not whether even we could survive out there. Are you certain of this?"

Riku didn't hesitate. "Yes."

Demyx reached out a hand, water flowing from his fingers into the newly-emptied canteen. It was fuller than it was before Zexion had taken it, and he allowed himself to relax marginally. He had a better chance of surviving, with a full canteen…and thus a better chance of finding Sora.

"It was…strange, to travel alongside a human," Zexion expressed carefully. "It was also a privilege. If all humans are so dedicated, there is hope yet for our kind and yours to live harmoniously…"

"…Thank you," Riku made no move to shake his hand, as he might have to part ways with another human; Zexion was helping Demyx remain on his feet, and he wasn't certain he would understand the custom.

With no more time to waste, he walked on, further into the desolate wood to search until he perished.

* * *

Day broke, sunlight reaching down like a mother entwining arms around her babe.

Roxas felt more at home in the light, but he loathed it. He could see far more clearly…see the body that had not yet been moved, not even an inch. Worse still, his new body – forever altered – seemed to resonate with it.

The light felt good. Roxas didn't want to feel good, ever again. He remained where he was, lying alongside Axel, staring into open eyes that would not blink.

Without Axel, he had no one to guide him in the gods' ways. No one to tell him truths that would alter his view completely.

Axel was dead. Forever, he was dead. Who would tell him otherwise?

The hunt was over. By midday, he somehow knew. Perhaps he was merely deluding himself, justifying his reasons for not moving from his spot and giving up…but either way, it was over for _him_.

He'd nothing left to live for, and while he knew in his heart he should have been mourning the fact that he would never again see his brother…he needed to grieve Axel.

Until the end of time, he would grieve Axel, until the light found mercy and left the sky…left Roxas to simply rot away and join him in the gods' afterlife.

"I was…beginning to love you," he whispered to him, as though it would make a difference.

Closing his eyes, he wound his arms around the corpse and waited for his final breath.


	16. Epilogue: Septum Virtus

Disclaimer: By now, I believe you can all say it with me…

This is it – the epilogue. The wrap-up to the cliffhanger ending. Are you excited?

I got more reviews than usual last chapter, and of course, I want to thank you all! But that might be space consuming… Ah, hell, why not. Thanks to **KasaixKaru**, **XxKH-FreakxX**, **Keybladewilder3059**, **StrangeSisters**, **sappire495**, **blood as soft as silk**, and **Kimmy15!** Also, certainly not to be overlooked, thanks to my anonymous reviewers, unnamed reviewer and ThatOneGirl! You made me feel special.

After this chapter, I'll be updating my other Kingdom Hearts fic, **Sincerely Yours**, if anyone cares to read that one next. It's in a very different style and has a vastly different plot, but you never know. You might enjoy it.

For the last time (regarding this story, at least) – onwards with the fanservice – uh, (very short) chapter!

* * *

The village became an expansive town…then, a city…then, a metropolis of glittering stone.

As the trees receded further and further, it gave the people more room to build. They constructed temples in every possible corner – shaped rich stores of rock into the chiselled features of the gods who had shown themselves to their humbled parents and grandparents, that day so many years ago. The beautiful faces of nature and of lightning.

And then, the face of wind. The face of time, and of space.

Of water, shadow, ice, and earth.

Then the god who governed the moon, and the ruler to them all. The Superior.

The humans bore their new role with grace and, eventually, pride. So many took on roles of devotion, pledging themselves to their most beloved and giving the remainder of their lives to praise their chosen.

Each time strife arose, the world seemed to mirror their arguments. Sea overtook land, as more knelt before the shrine of Demyx…winters lasted longer as many worshipped Vexen, and the mild seasons began to shape into more drastic, lengthened periods of intense heat or cold.

The moon grew more distant from the earth, as time wore on. The followers of Saïx had lost their battle to devotees of space.

Only two of the gods remained consistent…and perhaps that was only because they had never shown their faces to mortal men. Their elements remained a consistent, dependable force.

Their faceless statues stood vigil, over fire and light.

* * *

Lips met in a hot clash, sparking a dance between their tongues as they tangled in each other. It was always natural, and meant to be, that the two of them should go together.

They bathed their forest in warm as their bodies met, soft hands running through brilliant crimson strands as though they belonged there. Roxas had twined himself so closely with Axel that it was almost impossible to tell where one ended, and the other began – they melded, becoming one extraordinary blaze that would have hurt an onlooker's eyes.

It was bright, perfect, and beautiful.

A soft, broken moan escaped the fair god as strong fingers ran down his naked frame, fondling him low and brushing the full length of him with languid, teasing strokes. Every nerve was warmed, caressed…and despite the heat, Roxas had to shiver, the way a lick of flame trembled as it met with a breeze.

He was fire, himself, now. Both he and Axel. It was like they were sharing the element between them.

Axel kissed and touched him until he'd coaxed the heat free, catching as it spilled into his palm and drawing back just enough to allow himself a taste, that adroit tongue winding around each digit slowly, savouring every passing second he was given.

The two remained that way, embraced so closely that nothing would never be able to separate them, apart from the world and contently trapped in their own, for the rest of time.

* * *

As the priestess of light, daughter to the Two Chosen – the wandering sun-boy and the guardian mother, who saved mankind with her wit that fateful day when the gods first chose to visit us – told their tale through pictures, and eventually, in words. I, Naminé, pledge myself to telling this tale. The tale of the gods, the creatures of the forest, of how the world came to be.

And of Roxas. My dear uncle, and the god of light.


	17. Clarification: Not a chapter

Disclaimer: …Wait…this chapter doesn't need a disclaimer…

Because it's not a chapter!

* * *

I can't stand letting questions go unanswered, and I received an anonymous (well, signed, but with no way of replying) review asking a question…

So even though I feel kind of silly adding a whole new chapter onto the end of this story, I figure I'll put it up for a while and hope my reviewer sees it.

The question was:

How is Naminé Roxas's niece when Riku and Sora were in love?

Well, Riku wandered off in the penultimate chapter to find Sora, unaware that he was back at the village...so they never found each other. I don't know how obvious it was ('the wandering sun-boy and the guardian mother, who saved mankind with her wit that fateful day when the gods first chose to visit us') but Naminé is the daughter of _Sora and Kairi_.

Riku didn't get a happy ending, there…

Sorry to have bothered anyone who was watching this story, got a chapter update, and now feels ripped off. Also sorry to anyone who's reading this through for the first time and feels like I kind of murdered the atmosphere I (tried to) leave behind with the epilogue.

Oh, and just for anyone who's interested – I think I will try to get this thing published, once I switch around the names. I probably won't be changing many genders around because I feel the male/male love is actually important to what I was building up to.

If anyone's going to get a gender-switch, it's Zexion. Sorry, Zexy.

Anyway, thank you all for reading!


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